


Love or Hate

by justsomebucky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Language, Mentions of Sexytimes, No Smut, Workplace, Workplace Relationship, hijinks and miscommunications, i labeled mature even though it's pretty innocent, lots of antagonizing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:11:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsomebucky/pseuds/justsomebucky
Summary: AU. When the reader’s shot at a better life is stolen from her, she continues to see the person responsible all over town. After a series of unfortunate events, will she learn that there’s a fine line between love and hate?





	1. Chapter 1

Of all the days to wake up late, today was _not_ the day for it.

You cursed under your breath as you stepped out of the shower and nearly slid on the floor. The shower had started to leak; just another thing that was wrong with your crappy apartment for your landlord to ignore. Apparently life had decided that a broken window latch, the kitchen stove, and the questionable thermostat weren’t enough for you to deal with.

That’s why today was so important. 

Today, you had a job interview with Tony Stark. It was technically with his assistant, but the job you were after would have you working for him. Today was going to be your salvation from this hellhole of an apartment that you were already on the verge of losing.

It’d be different if IT people weren’t a dime a dozen in New York. It’d be different if you’d saved more and hadn’t depleted your savings by insisting that you had to live in Brooklyn. Your studio apartment was your pride and joy when you first graduated. You just _knew_ you’d make it, there were a _million_ jobs all over the city, and every company had an IT department.

But there were also a million people who qualified for those jobs with more experience than you. So you applied and applied, went on job interview after job interview, all the while spending a lot of your waking hours as a barista at the nearby coffee shop just to keep your head above water. Not that it would save you from the rent check that was due soon.

Then one day, you’d seen an advertisement online. Tony Stark was holding open interviews to try to find a new generation of brilliant workers for Stark Industries. Today was the day, and you were already running late.

You grabbed your bag, your keys, and gave yourself one last glance in the mirror before hightailing it out the door and down the stairs. It had looked like it was going to rain, but you forgot your umbrella, so you silently prayed that it would hold off until you could get through your interview.

A little bit of luck seemed to be on your side as you saw a taxi coming down the street. You moved forward to hail it and the driver saw you, putting the turn signal on.

“What the hell?” you muttered to yourself as your phone started going off in your bag. You looked down and rummaged around your bag to see who could be calling you at this hour.

You looked back up just in time to see a man with brown hair and a ridiculously nice suit steal your cab.

“Hey!” you shouted, your phone forgotten as you rushed over to the car. “That’s mine! I hailed it first!”

The man turned to look at you with a smug expression. “You weren’t paying attention and I’m late for a meeting. Sorry.” He shrugged and got in, shutting the door with a smirk.

“You could at least offer to share, you dick!” You kicked the tire, hurting your toes and shoe more than the stupid cab or the idiot inside.

His smirk widened as the cab drove away from the curb.

“What a colossal douchebag!” That little outburst earned you some strange looks from people passing by, but you couldn’t help it. Now you were _really_ going to be late for this interview. What a _great_ impression this was going to make.

To add insult to injury, the sky chose that moment to unleash a torrential downpour, and you were soaked in seconds.

* * *

When you finally made it to Stark Tower thanks to a last minute Uber arrival, you raced inside knowing that you looked like a total mess. Your clothes and hair were matted to your body from the rain, and you were sure your makeup had run.

“Hi,” you said breathlessly to the receptionist at the front desk. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here for the interview with Mr. Stark’s assistant Maria?”

The receptionist eyed you wearily. “Ms. Hill is finished with interviews for today. I suggest you come back for the next open job call.”

“No,” you practically whined. “Please, this is important! I’m qualified and eager and someone stole my cab this morning, that’s why I’m-“

“You again!” a snarky voice interrupted you.

You looked over to see who’d made the comment, your body tensing in anger the second you laid eyes on his face.

It was that cab-stealing asshole from earlier.

“What are _you_ doing here?” you asked sharply. “Have you come to ruin my morning a little more?”

His eyebrows raised indignantly. “I work here. What are _you_ doing here?”

Any reply you’d been ready to throw his way completely left your mind as you stared at him in shock.

“Not so self-assured now, are you, cab girl?” The man grinned at you unkindly before nodding at the receptionist. “See you later, Judy. I’ve got a meeting uptown.”

Judy smiled at him as if he was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. What an idiot. “Sure thing, Mr. Barnes. I’ll send your calls to your mobile.”

“Thanks,” he told her with a wink. He gave you one last look before buttoning his suit jacket and heading out of the building.

You glared after him so long that Judy, the supreme idiot, cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Miss, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Fine,” you agreed, turning to look at her again. “But can you tell me who that was?”

“Oh, that’s Bucky Barnes. He’s Mr. Stark’s accountant and he’s amazing,” she gushed.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Amazing.”

With one last longing look around the lobby, you left Stark Industries and your dream of working there behind you.


	2. Chapter 2

“Look, I get that your interview didn’t go well-“

“Didn’t happen,” you corrected your coworker. You were back at the coffee shop for your regular morning shift. “I got in the lobby and they told me to leave, that I was too late.”

Ritu eyed you for a second. “Fine, I get that it _didn’t happen,_ but you really need to get over it. There will be other jobs, and other interviews. You just gotta keep looking.” She turned away from you to wipe down the counters.

“Meanwhile, my apartment that I can no longer afford is falling in, my lease is almost up, and I’m going to have to live under a bridge and steal from dumpsters to survive.” You melodramatically buried your face in your hands.

“You know I’d never let you live under a bridge,” she protested. “T’Challa wouldn’t, either.”

You frowned at the mention of her wealthy boyfriend. “Why are you even still working here? You can afford to quit without working out your two week notice.” Not only was your life falling apart, but your favorite coworker in this hellhole was leaving you, too.

“It’s the right thing to do,” she said with a shrug. “Besides, I feel guilty.”

“Why?”

“Well, I forgot to mention one little detail about my new job.”

“What’s that?” you asked, your eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I’m going to be working for Mr. Stark, as his personal psychologist.”

Your face fell, but you tried to cover it up with a smile. “That’s great though. I’m happy for you.”

“Really?” She didn’t look convinced. “I didn’t want to tell you at first.”

“Really! At least one of us gets a dream job.” You gave her a small but sincere smile and turned to busy yourself behind the sandwich counter.

At least this shift at work would provide a distraction for a little while, especially with the morning rush about to start as people stopped by to get coffee before work.

Yesterday’s disaster had left you a little more than upset. You’d had a terrible night, unable to sleep because all you could think about were the bills and problems piling. Something had to give soon and you had a bad feeling that it was going to be you, giving up on Brooklyn and your dreams.

When the door opened and your first customer of the morning arrived, you broke out of your reverie and looked up.

“Shit!” You ducked back down behind the display. “Ritu, will you get that customer, please?”

“Why?” she questioned, glancing over to you.

“That’s the cab stealer! That’s Bucky Barnes,” you hissed. “Please?”

Ritu’s eyes widened. “Oh, hell no, I need to see this.” She reached for you and shoved you over to the counter, and you regained for footing just in time to meet Bucky’s eyes.  

His expression was practically gleeful when he saw you. His eyes shifted to read your name tag. “So, _Y/N_ , this is your real day job, huh?”

“Sorry, not all of us can work for Mr. Stark,” you retorted. “Especially when someone steals your cab and makes you miss your interview.” You wished you could wipe that smug look off his face. “Now, what can I get for you?”

Bucky’s eyes and expression reflected his amusement. “I didn’t make you miss anything. You could have gotten up earlier. You could have called a taxi sooner. It’s not my fault you were already running late.”

Your jaw clenched as you tried not to lash back at him. The last thing you needed was to be fired and have no income at all. “What can I get for you?” you ground out again.

“I’d like a medium iced coffee, black.”

You nodded once, ringing up the sale on the register and trying to look at him as little as possible.  “That’ll be $2.95. What’s the name for your order?” He didn’t need to know that you knew his name already, he was smug enough as it was.

“Bucky,” he supplied, that stupid smirk on his face again. He paid for his drink and reached in his pocket, throwing a dollar in the tip jar. “Keep the change.”

He was so damn infuriating, giving you a dollar like you were some kind of street beggar and he was doing you a favor. Your fists clenched at your sides in anger.

When he walked away to wait for his drink, a devious idea came to mind. You bit your lip to hold back a grin as you wrote a name on the cup in big bold letters and handed it to Ritu.

Once she was done making his drink, she saw what you had written and played along beautifully, placing the coffee on the counter. “Iced coffee for Borky!”

Your eyes flickered over to where Bucky was standing. He apparently didn’t hear his new name because he didn’t react.

“Better say it again,” you told her, unable to stop your smirk this time.

“ICED COFFEE FOR BORKY!” she said in a much louder voice.

You watched as he turned around, confusion on his face. When he glanced at you, realization washed over him. He rolled his eyes as he walked past you again to retrieve his drink. “Very mature,” he muttered.

“Enjoy your coffee, Borky!” you said cheerfully. “Have a nice day!”

He shook his head as he grabbed his drink and left the shop.

* * *

When your shift finally ended, you decided to walk home. The air was still warm and the sky was dimming to show beautiful shades of orange and pink. In your opinion, Brooklyn was never more beautiful than at sunset.

You felt a little emotional at the idea of having to leave behind your beloved neighborhood. This is where you’d set your sights to live since you were little, when you lived further away from the city and longed to be closer. 

One afternoon your dad had shown you a map, mostly just to indulge you, and asked where you wanted to live when you were older.

You remembered how the paper felt as you’d traced your finger over Long Island, up to Connecticut, and back down to Manhattan, and you could never forget the feeling you had when your eyes spotted the word ‘Brooklyn.’ It sounded like _heaven_ to you. You’d pointed to it on the map, and your dad had laughed, telling you that he couldn’t afford to move the family there. _Maybe someday_ , he’d said, _you could live there when you are a grown up_.

You’d never been sure about your degree, your school, or your love life, but you were always sure about Brooklyn.

Now it seemed like life was working out for everyone but you. There had to be something you could do. Your lease was almost up and you were running out of time. Stark Industries had been your last hope. Maybe if you called Tony’s assistant, or wrote a pleading email to him. You wanted that job. You _needed_ that job.

With a huge sigh, you turned the corner and your apartment building came into view. It was probably a really charming complex when it was first built, decades ago, but now it was stuck in between two fancier apartment complexes and looked out of place. The one on the left even had a man at the front door to open it for residents, because apparently some people were just too rich and important to open a door for themselves.

The doorman was nice enough; you’d talked to him a couple times while you were standing outside your own building waiting for a cab. He was an older gentleman named Ralph, and in the short conversations you’d had with him in your time in this neighborhood, you’d found out that he put two kids through university, had bad knees, and loved every second of his job. It let him interact with people, even if it was brief and even if not everyone was appreciative of him.

You were about to say hello to him when a figure emerged from a nice black limousine and walked to the door. His head was turned away from you at first, and you weren’t really sure if it was just another rich person or some kind of minor celebrity that sometimes rolled through town.

But then Ralph opened the door and nodded at the man, and the stranger turned just enough for you to see his face. Your body tensed at the sight of him.

_Bucky Barnes lived in the building next door._

You moved quickly to your front door so he wouldn’t see you if he happened to glance around. That explained why he was able to steal your cab so easily yesterday. When he finally went inside, you waited a few minutes along the wall of your apartment, pretending to check your phone before walking over to Ralph.

“Evening, Miss Y/N,” he said with a warm smile. “How’d the interview go yesterday?”

“Hi, Ralph. I actually didn’t get to have the interview.”

“Oh?” he frowned. “Why not?”

“That man you just let inside, Mr. Barnes? He took my cab and I was late.”

“That’s a shame. Mr. Barnes is a nice man, I can’t imagine why he’d do that.”

“ _Nice man_ ,” you scoffed, leaning a little to peer into the building. “He probably lives in the top floor suite and doesn’t know what suffering is.”

“Oh no, Miss,” Ralph said, shaking his head. “He lives on the second floor, facing your building actually.”

Your eyes widened. “S-second floor? Facing my building?”

“Yes. If you’ll excuse me, my break is coming up.”

“Have a good night, Ralph!” You turned back to walk to your apartment building, silently praying that you were wrong and your day wasn’t about to get much worse.

You shut the door to your apartment once you got inside and set your stuff down, before hightailing it over to your bedroom window to open the curtains and look across the way.

The window across the alley from you was currently dark. “Please don’t be him,” you whispered. “Please.”

No more than thirty seconds later, the light flipped on, and Bucky walked into the room.

“Oh shit!” You closed your curtains immediately, ducking down as if he could see you, as if he was even _looking._ You couldn’t believe that Bucky Barnes’ apartment window faced yours. This guy just wouldn’t get out of your life. It’s like fate wanted you to be reminded of your failures daily.

Maybe you should move after all.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a tapping sound at your bedroom window.

You weren’t sure what it was, but it woke you from the best sleep you’d had in weeks, so you were out for blood. You cringed as you climbed from your soft bed, the one thing you’d splurged on for your apartment, and padded barefoot over to the window. You pushed one curtain aside to see what was going on.

A stupid pigeon was using its beak to tap on the glass. The sun was barely over the buildings, and this idiot rat with wings had picked your window to tap. He’d probably seen his own dumb face in the glass.

“Shoo,” you commanded, as if it could hear you through the closed window. You knocked on the glass, hoping it would scare the bird into flying away. “SHOO!”

It stared up at you with its beady eyes, unwilling to leave the window ledge.

With an annoyed huff, you yanked open the curtains and then the window. The bird simply walked a little further away from you to sit on the fire escape.

“You’re rude,” you told it, fully aware that it was a bit ridiculous to chastise a pigeon. “I was sleeping.”

Just as you were about to close your window again, you glanced up.

To your horror, Bucky was standing at his window staring at you with a smirk. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as you watched him open his own window.

“Talking to pigeons now?” he called out.

You felt your face heat up. “It woke me up.” Another thought hit you. “Why do you not seem surprised to see me?”

“Because I knew you lived across from me,” Bucky grinned and gave you a small shrug. “By the way, you might want to close your curtains more often when you change.”

“UGH!” you slammed your window shut, wishing the latch wasn’t broken so you could properly lock it. The curtains were pulled back into place and you vowed to get a thicker set so that he would never be able to see you again.

So not only was he a total asshat, but he was a voyeur too?!

You were so sick of him you could _scream_.

* * *

Since it was so nice outside that afternoon, you decided to go for a run. It’s not that you particularly _liked_ jogging, but it was a healthier way to work out your anger and disappointment than drinking. Not to mention that it was still early and you had to work later.

Besides, if you didn’t do something to try and shake the frustration your newfound neighbor was causing, you’d surely go insane in no time.

Once you made your way outside, you put your sunglasses on and took a right to jog past Ralph, waving to him as you went by. This path was a lot less busy than if you’d headed the other direction, toward the restaurants and shops of the neighborhood.

The sound of your feet hitting the pavement and the general noises of the city helped you zone out from all your troubles for a while. When you reached the greenery along the edge of the park, you decided to turn around and go back. That’s when someone stepped on the heel of your shoe and sent you flying face-first into the grass.

You hit the ground with a loud “Oof!” and immediately whirled around to defend yourself against your attacker.

Before you stood the bane of your existence, doubled over in laughter at the sight of you on your backside. “Oh god,” Bucky laughed, his hand over his stomach. “You should see your eyes right now!”

“You are such an ass,” you growled, pushing his hand away when he offered it to you to stand up on your own. Your pants were covered in dirt and grass stains now, and your hands weren’t in much better shape. “I could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I didn’t realize you had zero balance and you’d fall,” he replied, running a hand through his hair. “I just thought it’d be funny, and I was right.”

“Idiot.” You turned and started walking away from him. “Why are you even out here? Can’t you go to a gym or something? I’m sure you have some expensive personal trainer.”

“I do,” he admitted, falling into step beside you. You moved further away instinctively. “But it’s not nearly as fun as running. Besides, I wouldn’t see you there to torture you. When’s the last time you had a gym membership?”

Now you were fuming. You stopped to look at him. “What are you suggesting?”

“That you can’t afford it, clearly,” he chuckled again. “Running is free.”

You looked down at your hands to avoid further embarrassment. They were turning red now with minor brush burns.

“Let me see,” Bucky said, his voice surprisingly soft as he reached for your hands.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” you asked in a pleading voice, moving further from him. “Between the cab, my _window_ , and now this, you’re driving me crazy! I don’t know what’s gotten you so hooked on torturing me, especially since you don’t even know me, but I really don’t want to see you again.” You made a sharp turn in a different direction, hoping he’d realize you were serious and disappear.

“Hey, I didn’t trip you on the pavement at least.” Bucky didn’t take the hint. He followed behind you a few steps, his long strides helping him catch up with you pretty quickly.

“Oh, what a gentleman. You waited to trip me until the right moment. What are you, five?”

“No,” he countered, his blue-grey eyes bright. “I’m an adult enjoying a day off from work.”

“Go enjoy it somewhere else. Find someone new to torture.” You started jogging again, turning the corner to head back to your apartment. Much to your dismay, Bucky kept up pace beside you, though he was thankfully silent this time, so you didn’t say anything else. It’s not like you could stop him anyways; the sidewalk was a public place.

The two of you jogged side-by-side back to your little corner of Brooklyn, and as soon as you spotted your apartment building you got an idea.

Bucky stopped on the curb to wait for the light to change, but you saw your chance and kept jogging right through traffic. At least two drivers honked angrily at you but you made it to the other side.

“You’d risk life and limb to get away from me?” he shouted, his arms up in question with disbelief etched on his face.

“Breaking every bone in my body is less painful than spending time with you,” you called back. You knew it was a low blow, but at least you were free. With another wave to Ralph next door, you jogged up to your building and went inside.

The sound of the door slamming behind you was a welcome relief.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets revenge, but Bucky doesn’t like having a taste of his own medicine. Was it worth it?

“You look fine! Hurry up, okay?”

You frowned at the clock on your phone. It was nearly eight o’clock, and Ritu’s party to celebrate her new job was about to start. 

It was being thrown by her boyfriend T’Challa, who was probably one of the most amiable and attractive men you’d ever met. You’d never known someone with so much money and power who was really just a big softie at heart. They’d moved in together as soon as her two-week notice at the coffee shop in Brooklyn was over.

This apartment was _ridiculous_. It was in the Upper East Side, someplace you didn’t really frequent because of distance and circumstance. They had hardwood floors and crystal chandeliers and beautiful art everywhere. You felt like if you moved the wrong direction you’d break something that you couldn’t afford to replace.

You checked your reflection in a full-length mirror. The dress you’d chosen was black, with three-quarter length length sleeves, and had a skirt that went mid-thigh. “Do you think I look okay?”

Ritu peered in the doorway of the guest bathroom. “It’s fine. People are already here, I’m going to go be a good hostess. I’ll see you down there, okay?”

“Right,” you called back, leaning forward to touch up your eyeliner. You knew exactly why you were nervous; you felt like you didn’t belong. No matter how many times your friends had reassured you that you didn’t stick out, you felt like you had a stamp on your forehead that said ‘outcast’ or something.

With a final nod at your reflection, you turned to walk down the stairs to the party.

* * *

It took a couple of drinks, but you ended up actually having a good time. Between the music, the people, the alcohol, and the food, there wasn’t a single reason to do anything but enjoy yourself.

That was the case, at least, until Ritu broke the news to you.

“What do you mean, _he’s here_?” you snapped, glaring daggers at your friend. “How could _he_ be _here_?”

“Well, it turns out Bucky is T’Challa’s friend, so…”

“Nice of you to tell _me_ this!”

“I didn’t know! I only found out when I looked at the guest list! They know each other from some consulting work that T has done for Stark Industries.”

“Why has literally everyone in this city worked for Tony Stark except me?”

“Look, why don’t you go talk to Natasha and Wanda, they’re over there,” she pointed across the room to the makeshift bar.

That did seem like a better idea than staying near Ritu and T’Challa, since _he_ was likely to want to talk to them sometime that night, too.

Besides, you liked Wanda and Natasha.

You’d met them at a dinner party you’d gone to with Ritu a few months ago, and they were both really funny and laid back. They made you feel like less of an outsider even though they both had their own fortunes and inheritances.

You moved quickly over to the bar, reaching for another glass of wine before pushing yourself into their conversation.

“Y/N!” Wanda greeted you happily. “Where’ve you be-”

“Shh!” you whispered. “I’m hiding from someone.”

“Who?” Natasha asked, her eyes widening with interest. “Is it T’Challa? Because I’m pretty sure he knows you’re here already. I think he also knows you ate all of the almonds he brought back from his business trip for Ritu, because I might have told-“

“No, I’m not hiding from T’Challa.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “So who are you hiding from then?”

Wanda leaned over. “Is it that tall, sexy brunette with the big blue eyes who is on his way over here?”

You groaned in frustration. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Who’s joking?” Bucky asked, moving to stand between Natasha and Wanda. He draped his arms over their shoulders. “Y/N, why have you never introduced me to your beautiful friends?”

Nat raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m married, buddy.” She held up her left hand and a diamond ring flashed in the light. “My husband Clint wouldn’t be very pleased with your arm around me.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he schmoozed, dropping his arm from Nat and turning to Wanda. “And you, pretty lady?”

“The name is Wanda, and I’m taken, too.” Her eyes looked at you. “But Y/N is single!”

“Wanda!” you hissed, feeling your cheeks grow hot. You were far too sober to handle this situation.

“Oh, I know she is,” Bucky assured them. “I live in the apartment next door, and I’m almost positive that there’s been zero action for her the entire time she’s lived there.”

Your eyes met his in horror. “You are a sicko! Who looks into women’s bedrooms?”

“Who leaves their curtains open for anyone to look in?” he shot back. “I just looked to make myself feel better on the rare night I went to bed alone, knowing you were _always_ alone.”

“I’d rather be alone than a slut,” you retorted, gritting your teeth in anger.

By now, Wanda and Natasha had slowly crept away from where the two of you were arguing. You glanced around, realizing that you were alone with Bucky again.

“See, you scared away my friends with your horrible personality!” With one last glare, you turned from him and walked away as quickly as you could, right into the broad chest of one of the party guests.

“Whoa there, are you okay?”

You looked up to see a handsome blond man staring down at you, his blue eyes showing concern.

“I- I’m fine,” you stuttered, completely dazed. “Sorry for running into you.”

The man gave you a wide smile, and you knew you probably looked like the heart-eyes emoji right now.

“No, I should watch where I’m going. I’m Steve, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied, giving him a small smile of your own. “Are you from the Upper East Side, Steve?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m originally from Brooklyn. I’ve been moving around a lot lately, though.”

“I live in Brooklyn!” You were excited to have something in common with this gorgeous man, especially since it happened to be one of your favorite topics.

His blue eyes lit up. “Really? Where? How do you like it?”

Just as you were about to open your mouth to gush about your favorite place ever, you felt a hand on your shoulder, which you promptly shrugged off. Why couldn’t this man take a hint?

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky greeted the hot piece of man candy in front of you.

“Hi, Buck.” Steve gave him a nod in return, looking beyond confused.

“I see you met my neighbor,” he said, nudging your arm for effect.

“How do you two know each other?” you asked, turning to glare at him.

“Old Steve here has been my friend for years. We play basketball together every Sunday,” Bucky told you with an evil gleam in his eyes.

He was onto you and your heart-eyes for Steve. _Damn._  

“That’s nice.” You plastered on a fake smile and turned back to Steve. “Do you want to get a drink and go somewhere a little more private? We can talk about Brooklyn?”

“Uh,” Steve hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flashed to Bucky’s. “I- uh…”

“If you go anywhere alone with this one, you might want to watch your back,” Bucky told him, nodding at you. “She’s a little…different.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t believe he’d have the audacity to do this to you. “Steve, I don’t even know this man. He just lives in the building next door to mine. He’s been harassing me since about three days ago, and-“

“See? Paranoid and crazy,” Bucky interrupted, circling his index finger by his ear for good measure.

Steve gave you an apologetic look. “Maybe some other time, Y/N. It was nice meeting you, though. I just think I’m gonna go home.” He looked back to Bucky. “See you Sunday, man.”

“See you, Steve,” he replied with a grin and a wave. He turned his blue-grey eyes back to you triumphantly.

“What kind of sick pleasure do you get in ruining my reputation and chance with a nice, handsome man?” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. “As if ruining my career and my morning jogs and my privacy weren’t enough?”

“For the record, you ruined your own privacy,” Bucky countered. “And we’ve been over the other ones already.”

“Do you hate me or something?”

His gaze softened. “I don’t hate you, Y/N.”

“Then why?” Your eyes searched his, desperate to get to the root cause for all of this. “Why, when you don’t even so much as know my _last name_ -“

“I do so,” he exclaimed. “It’s-“

“You don’t _know_ me!” You put your hands on your hips. “Why, Bucky?”

“Aw, c’mon, Doll. It’s fun to see you get all riled up.” He shrugged. “It’s entertaining.”

You wondered when he decided to start calling you Doll. “I’m glad my misery is entertaining for you.”

All he could do in response was grin.  

You turned away again, utterly frustrated and determined to lose him.

Wanda caught you in the hall as you were storming past. “What just happened? You look so pissed right now!”

“That man happened,” you practically growled, pointing to Bucky.

He was already preoccupied with a pretty woman near the window. His arm was up against the glass as if it made him look sexy or something.

You secretly wished the window would open and he’d fall out.

“Why do you let him get to you so much?”

“That’s the man that stole my cab and made me miss my job interview, and since that day he has refused to leave me _alone_. He’s _everywhere_!” Your blood pressure was rising; if you didn’t calm down you were sure you’d have a heart attack.

“Okay, so go get your revenge, and then we can leave,” Wanda instructed. “We’ll go get drunk and dance someplace, okay?”

“Revenge? What did you have in mind?”

You leaned over as Wanda whispered her devious plan in your ear, extremely happy that she had shown up tonight. “You’re a genius.”

“I know.” She shoved you back into the main party area. “Now go do this, and we’ll say goodnight to Ritu and leave.”

You paused after a few steps to collect yourself, knowing this would be either really mean or really hilarious. With your eyes on the prize, you walked over to Bucky, hoping you could pull this off.

He glanced up at you while mid-conversation. His brow furrowed and his eyes showed surprise. “Y/N?”

It was time to give a good performance.

“Is this what you’re doing at night instead of reading to our children?” Your wide eyes glanced over to the bottle-blonde woman. “Is this who you’ve been with at night when little Becca asks for her Daddy to tuck her in? I hope you’re happy, you homewrecker!” Somehow you’d managed to get actual tears to spring to your eyes. Who knew you were this good an actress?

Bucky stood there gaping at you, confusion on his face.

The woman he’d been hitting on was a mess. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea, h-he never said anything about you!” She grabbed her purse, and with another apology she rushed away from the two of you, parting the disinterested crowd.

“Wait!” Bucky called out to the retreating woman, taking a few steps forward as if to stop her before turning to you with an icy glare.

“Aaaand, scene!” You looked at Bucky, eyes dry, a devious smile on your face. “She seemed nice.”

“I’ll never know, thanks to you. What the hell was that for?” Frustration was practically radiating from his pores at this point.

“An eye for an eye. A bimbo for a Steve.” You shrugged once, turning to go find Wanda so you could leave. “It’s not so nice when the tables are turned, is it? Enjoy your evening, Bucky.”

“Enjoy being _forever alone_ , Y/N!” he snarled after you.

You kept walking, determined not to let him see the hurt on your face from his parting shot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is clearly still angry. Sorry my dudes. Thanks for reading!

Work the next day was painful at best. You had to open with the new guy, Trevor, a teenager who inappropriately hit on you constantly, and barely knew how to work a coffee brewer. He was nice enough, you figured, other than his terrible attempts at flirtation and his idiocy.

Today was not the day for him to mess with you, though he was giving it hell.

You groaned softly to yourself as the events of last night replayed in your brain for the hundredth time since you opened your eyes this morning. The night had been going _so well_ until Bucky Barnes had to arrive and shove his nose into your business.

It wasn’t like you to try to ruin someone’s evening in return, either. Sure, it had been Wanda’s idea, but you’d executed it with some evil glee, and Bucky had been _pissed._

His parting words still stung you _. Enjoy being forever alone, Y/N!_

He couldn’t have known it, but that was one of your worst fears, right up there with death, cancer, failure, and Game of Thrones ending without Gendry telling Arya he loves her.

“Why do you keep making moaning sounds,” Trevor asked with a lecherous grin. “Is it because you are too turned on by me to work?”

“I could have you written up for that, Trevor,” you pointed out, giving him a dangerous look. “I really don’t need you acting weird today.”

“How _do_ you need me?” His eyebrows waggled.

“I need you to do your damn job and stop sexually harassing me!”

“I don’t think you have the slightest clue what you’re missing out on.”

“Ahem,” a female cleared her throat.

You and Trevor both looked up in surprise to the customers standing in front of you, and your heart immediately dropped.

It was Bucky, with a beautiful brunette clinging to his arm. His jaw was clenched tightly as he stared at Trevor, refusing to meet your eyes.

Great, he was still pissed about last night. A wave of fear ran through you for a second as you pondered what he could do to get his revenge. Coming here to get you fired _would_ be the obvious next step.

To your surprise, he not only never looked at you, he didn’t speak at all. The woman hanging all over him is the one who ordered.

She gave her order to Trevor with a smile. It turned out that her name was Dalia, and the more you glanced at her the more you didn’t like her. She was too pretty, too sweet. Why the hell would she want to be with someone as loose and annoying as Bucky, a self-admitted man-whore?

You let your gaze slide back to him while you waited for Trevor to hand you the cups for their order. You watched as he handed Trevor money, then waved away the change. He told Dalia he would get them a table, not even waiting for his drink.

Boy, he must really hate you now. He didn’t even try to hurt your feelings. You weren’t even worthy of insults now; you earned his total silence. Had he really been that mad about losing out on a night with the bottle-blonde at the party?

With a big sigh, you made the drinks for him and Dalia – iced coffee, black for him, and a latte for her. She smiled and said a polite thank you when you told her the drinks were ready, taking them back to the table where Bucky sat with his back to you.

You glanced at the clock, silently begging for time to move a little faster so that you could leave and the next person could deal with Bucky’s bullshit. Plus, you really didn’t have the stomach for watching Dalia make heart-eyes at him all night; drinking so much the night before had been a bad idea and you still felt a little sick.

“Miss?”

Your stomach clenched uncomfortably as you looked back to see Dalia standing at the counter again. Blech, Bucky definitely had good taste. She gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but my date said that this isn’t what he ordered, and he’d like for you to make him another drink.”

You reached over the counter and read Trevor’s writing. “This says iced coffee, black,” you told her, showing her the writing.

“I know, he says he asked for an iced cappuccino.”

Now you _really_ hated Trevor. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I will make him a new coffee.”

“Thank you.” She smiled so sweetly that you wanted to hate her, too, but couldn’t.

You went to work on the new drink, handing it over to her. “Please let your date know that we are very sorry for the mistake.” There was a double meaning behind your words, not that she would understand.

Now you had to deal with Trevor. “Why did you write that guy’s drink order wrong?”

“I didn’t,” he replied, blinking in confusion. “He said very clearly, even I couldn’t screw it up.”

You bit your lip. “Now’s not the time to lie, Trevor. You have to pay more attention to your orders!”

“Listen, _bitch_ ,” he said in a low tone. “I didn’t mess up the order, okay? Maybe he’s just a dumbass.”

“Don’t talk about customers like that.”

“Don’t talk at all.”

“I’m _definitely_ reporting you now,” you informed him. “It’s long overdue.”

“I’d like to speak to your manager first,” a gruff voice sounded from behind you.

You whirled around and met the blue-grey eyes of Bucky Barnes for the first time all night. “You wouldn’t. I remade your drink! Do you want another one? I’ll give you a refund-”

“Manager,” he repeated, his tone telling you he wasn’t messing around.

Trevor grinned at you gleefully before turning to find your manager, who was actually here for once, prepping for inventory overnight.

“Please don’t,” you begged Bucky. “I know you hate me, but I didn’t mess up your drink on purpose, I swear!”

Bucky stared over your shoulder at the door that Trevor had disappeared through and completely ignored you.

You panicked. Another write-up and you’d be screwed. You already had one for swearing and one for a bad temper. The stress of losing the interview with Tony Stark had made you a little bit crazy lately, and you knew with one more bad review or write-up you were done.

Your manager walked around the counter and shook Bucky’s hand.

Bucky gave you one last glance, his eyes cold and hard, before turning to follow your manager to a table so they could speak.

You were _so screwed_. He was _definitely_ still pissed off about last night.

The panic got so bad your vision blurred and your palms were sweating. You had to stop this before it ended up on his list of bad things that he’d accomplished against you. You couldn’t let him take something else away from you. 

In this moment, you felt like you hated him as much as he hated you. 

There was only one thing left to do, even if it meant you’d have to move for sure. Once you’d gathered your things and taken off your apron, you marched over to the table with a new resolve.

Both Bucky and your manager looked up at you in surprise as you said the only thing you could.

_“I quit.”_

You’d never left the coffee shop faster in your life, and you pleaded with your shaking hands to cooperate when you dialed the first name in your missed calls list. When she answered, the floodgates opened and you started crying over the phone.

“Natasha…I think I’ve just done something really stupid.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone’s waving the white flag.

You groaned as you dropped your bag on the floor of your apartment. There had been a notice on the door reminding you that if you failed to sign your new lease soon, your landlord was going to start showing your apartment to other people.

And of course, there was that little minor detail that you’d quit your job and no longer had an income to _pay_ for the apartment.

Natasha had talked you down from a near panic attack yesterday. She reminded you that you still had her, Wanda, and a bunch of other people who would be willing to take you in if need be. She also told you to find another job as soon as possible, even if it was one that you absolutely loathed. It was all solid advice.

You set your keys down on the table beside the door and shuffled over to the couch, flopping down onto it with a sigh. Your muscles ached and you were feeling a little fidgety. Nat had made you sleep at her place last night so that you didn’t have to be alone with your thoughts, and now you realized why.

The self-loathing you were feeling was practically crippling you.

Everything had been looking up for you this time last week. Everything was full of colors and light, and you had a sincere hope that your life was about to get better.

Your eyes narrowed as you pictured Bucky’s face yesterday at the coffee shop. His eyes, once he’d finally bothered looking at you, had been so cold, so determined to make your life a miserable hell.

Why on earth had he selected you out of 7 billion people to torture? There were plenty of people who deserved it more. All you’d wanted was a damn cab.

Tears burned your eyes and you quickly tried to blink them away. You were _not_ going to cry over that asshole. You weren’t. You had to repeat it over and over until it became your favorite new mantra.

_You would not cry over Bucky Barnes._

With a determined nod to your empty apartment, you reached for your laptop. It was time to take your life back, one job application at a time.

* * *

“Well, Ritu told me that T’Challa was over at Stark Industries today, and that he saw Bucky.”

“Oh yeah? So what?” You had Wanda on speaker as you checked off the final job requisition on your notepad. You’d applied for a total of ten jobs that day, nine of which were below your education and experience level.

Natasha was right, you had to start somewhere.

“So she said that T told her that Bucky looked _terrible._ ”

You gloated internally a little at this thought. “Good. I hope he can’t sleep at night over what he’s done.”

“He asked for your number,” she mentioned almost casually.

“WHAT?” That made you sit up in horror. “He didn’t give that moron my number did he?”

“No, T told him it wasn’t his place.”

“Good.” You exhaled deeply, relaxing back against the chair. “Man, he’s just trying to get me to leave Brooklyn, I think.”

“What did you do to this man?”

“I’ve no idea. I never even knew he existed until that day…that awful day that I don’t want to think about anymore.”

“All right, well, don’t think about it. I’ve got to go, but we need to catch up soon, okay?”

“Got it. Talk to you soon.” As you hit end on the call, you noticed your phone’s battery was low. You slipped your phone in your pocket and made your way to your bedroom to grab your phone charger.

Your eyes widened in wonder as you looked out your window and saw tiny snowflakes had begun to fall. The weather guy on the news had mentioned the possibility of flurries as an unusual storm blew in from Canada, but you weren’t expecting it to actually happen. It wasn’t even winter yet.

Then again, this was the northeast, and you’d lived through enough winters to know better. You tossed your phone on your bed and reached for the coat in your closet. Evening temperatures were pretty low already, and you figured this storm had to have made it even colder. You didn’t want to risk it.

Even if you couldn’t enjoy anything else in life right now, you were going to go enjoy the snow flurries.

You hurriedly made your way downstairs, careful to twist the lock on your door and shut it behind you. Once you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you stopped and stared up at the sky. You probably looked like an idiot, grinning at the tiny white flakes that were dancing all around you, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Snow was a fact of life for you growing up. You used to go sled riding, have snowball fights, and generally just enjoy this weather. Then when you started having to drive in it, you hated it again, because snow and ice were dangerous.

But now that you lived in the city, where you had access to other means of transportation and places within walking distance to find food, you loved it again.

As you stood there like a lunatic, you felt like the Grinch on the night his heart grew three sizes, your troubles momentarily forgotten.

“Don’t step into traffic, okay?”

Your heart shrank back down almost immediately. “Go away,” you warned, not bothering to turn around.

“Can’t I even be on the same sidewalk as you?”

“No!” You didn’t even look at him as you whirled around to go back inside.

“Would you stop for a minute and let me explain?”

“No,” you repeated as you stepped up to your door. Your hands searched your coat pocket for your keys.

Bucky was suddenly beside you. “Please? I just want to explain about everything. Give me ten minutes of your time and I promise if you still hate me afterwards, I’ll never bother you again.”

Your eyes flickered to him in disbelief. “Me hate you? What about _you_ hating _me?_ I’m not the one who has been trying to ruin your life.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” he said, his voice and face showing frustration.

You kept digging through your coat before you realized in horror that you didn’t have your keys. “Oh, god.”

“What?” Bucky looked alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“No, I am not okay! This is not okay!” You stomped over to the side of the building, wincing at the sight of the fire escape. It was slick with snow, and even in dry weather it wasn’t stable enough for you to climb. You heaved a sigh and moved back to the front door.

“Why were you squinting at the fire escape?”

You turned to look at Bucky. “None of your business, that’s why.”

“Did you forget your keys?”

“No?” Your hands were frantic now. It was cold, and you’d left your phone on your bed, and your keys were…on the table by the door. _Dammit._ “Yes.”

He had the audacity to chuckle. “You’re locked out?”

“This is somehow your fault!” You marched back to the side of the building.

“Where are you going? You can’t possibly climb that?”

“My bedroom window latch is broken, I can get in that way.” You walked until you were underneath it, but you were too short to reach it. “Give me a boost.”

“No.”

You glared at him. “What do you mean, no?”

“That thing is not safe enough for you to go anywhere near.” He frowned back at you.

“What do you care? Maybe I’ll fall off and you’ll finally be rid of me.”

Something flashed in his eyes for a second, but it was gone quickly. “There’s no way you’re touching that fire escape. Why don’t you try buzzing your neighbors and see if they will open the door?”

“And then what?” you asked, hands on hips. “I locked my apartment door, too.”

Bucky glanced over at his own building, where someone who wasn’t Ralph was standing outside the door.

You knew exactly what he was thinking. “Oh no. No no no! I’ll call a locksmith, I’ll call my landlord…”

“At this time in the evening, with this weather?” He gave you a skeptical look. “I don’t think so, Doll.”

Realization washed over you, followed by dread. He was right. Your landlord lived in Hauppauge, and he wouldn’t be willing to drive out just because you were so excited to see snow flurries that you locked yourself out. A locksmith wouldn’t be willing to come out without a huge fee tacked on, something you couldn’t afford, and even then he might not drive out until morning.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward his building. “It’s too cold out here.”

“You won’t try to kill me in my sleep right?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Fine, freeze!” He turned away and started walking to his building slowly.

“Wait,” you called out, scurrying after him.

* * *

“Here we are,” Bucky said, holding the door open for you.

You stepped in and couldn’t help but stare in awe. “So this is what Stark money can buy you.”

Bucky’s apartment was a magnificent bachelor pad. The walls were grey, and he had a huge tv with black leather furniture around it. There were plants you didn’t have to water much, dark curtains, an electric fireplace, and everything you’d expect a man like him to have.

“Where’s the dartboard with my face on it?” you asked nonchalantly. “Or the voodoo doll?”

He merely hummed at you as he shut the door and hung up his coat. He tapped you on your arm and you pulled your own coat off, which he hung next to his.

“I don’t even have my phone,” you added mournfully as you wandered to the side wall, running your fingers over glass shelving that held classic hardback books. _Maybe he’s not as dumb as he seems,_ you pondered.

“If you need to call someone you can use mine.”

“Any plans tonight?” you asked hopefully. “Is Dalia coming by to get you?”

He made a face. “That was a one-time date. One of my coworkers set me up.”

“Didn’t work out?” You knew you were being nosy, but you couldn’t help it.

“You could say that.” Something must have happened for him to be that vague.  

Your eyes followed Bucky as he went into the kitchen and tossed his keys down on the counter. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“I told you,” he said, his gaze meeting yours. “I don’t hate you. I have no vendetta against you. This has been an…unfortunate misunderstanding.”

“Ah, yes. My future is one giant unfortunate misunderstanding,” you agreed sarcastically. “Maybe we _should_ talk. I’ve been dying to know why you’ve been sabotaging my life.”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. You were clearly agitating him again. _Good,_ you thought smugly.

“Please, sit. I’ll order some food for us. You like pizza?”

You blinked. “Everyone likes pizza.”

He nodded and turned to make the call while you wandered into the kitchen. You sat on one of the stools at the counter, looking in awe at his marble counter top and stainless steel appliances. It seemed so pathetic to go from shabby to luxurious in just the few feet that separated your lifestyle from his. You’d be too embarrassed for him to ever see your apartment when he was so used to this one.

Your attention snapped back to him as you heard him end his call.

“So,” he began, turning back to you, “about yesterday.”

“Yes?” You rested your chin on your hand and gave him your best blank expression. You would not let Bucky Barnes see you cry. You would not let Bucky Barnes see you cry. You would not let-

“I was going to report your horn-dog coworker,” Bucky admitted. “Not you.”

You sat up a little straighter. “You couldn’t have told me that before I quit?”

“I didn’t know you were going to be dramatic and quit!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide. “I was trying to _help_ you!”

“Some help,” you scoffed, anger rising again. “I asked you not to report me and you _looked away_. You could have said something then!”

Bucky made his way around the counter to stand in front of you. “I promise, I didn’t even think about it. I was so mad, I just – that douchebag kept saying shit to you, and I –“

“What does that even matter?”

His stance deflated then, like a balloon that was slowly leaking air. He took a couple steps back. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m sorry.”

“Good,” you said with a nod. “Let’s just not talk about it right now.”

“Fine.” Bucky moved to sit on his couch, staring at the fake fireplace in front of him. It would have been cozy if it was anyone else besides him in the room with you. He grabbed the remote and put the news on, so you both watched in silence.

You managed not to say another word to him until the pizza arrived about twenty minutes later, and even then, all you squeaked out was a thank you.

When it came time for bed, you laid on the couch, thanking him again for the blanket and pillows he offered you.

“What time do you need to be up by?”

“I don’t, remember? No job.” You refused to meet his eyes.

Bucky sighed quietly. “I’ll call a locksmith for you in the morning before I leave for work.”

“Thank you,” you said for the last time that night. Hopefully he’d be gone before you woke up, and you could leave and never look back.

“Goodnight, Doll,” he said softly, shutting the last light off in the living room.

“Goodnight, Bucky.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving right along. Bucky has made his choice, it seems. Also, someone new is introduced!

It’d been a couple of days since you’d locked yourself out of your apartment. You’d woken up in Bucky’s place the next day, only to find a note from him telling you that he’d called the locksmith and he’d paid for it, too.

_Truce,_ he’d written at the end of the note.

Much to your surprise, he seemed to really mean it. You hadn’t seen him at all since you’d said goodnight to him. He had even taken to closing his curtains now, something you’d noticed when you looked outside to see if there was still a dusting of snow on the ground.

The snow was all gone, and apparently so was Bucky Barnes.

At first, you were a little cautious and paranoid, looking around to see if he was waiting nearby to gleefully ruin your day. Once you realized he was sticking to the truce, you felt both relieved and a little bit disappointed, though you’d never admit that to anyone, ever.

Somehow, through all his stupid pranks and annoying behavior, he’d started to grow on you. You didn’t miss being tripped or anything, though.

On the job front, you had managed to get one callback for an interview. It was for an assistant manager job at a retailer down the street. The shop was a cute little bohemian clothing store about a block or so away from the coffee shop you used to work for. It wasn’t anywhere near being IT-related, but it would be a paycheck.

You’d gone after lunch to meet Bonnie, the shop’s owner. She was a lovely older woman who cursed like a sailor, and you got along well with her, but you’d both come to the conclusion that she needed someone with more managerial experience for this job.

At least you’d tried, right?

To celebrate your first (albeit unsuccessful) interview post-coffee shop meltdown, you decided to head over to a little café and treat yourself.

Before you managed to get there, your phone started buzzing in your bag. “Hello?”

“Y/N,” a gruff voice replied. “What’s your answer?”

_Dammit_. It was your landlord. You completely forgot about your lease in all the other troubles lately, and you still couldn’t give him a solid answer. Your hands got a little clammy. “I just need a little more time to figure out some things.”

“I gave you plenty of time, and not one but _two_ extensions,” he snapped. “You’re out. Clean your apartment up by the weekend, I’m going to start showing it to people. Consider this your official notice to vacate.”

“But, _please_ , can’t I just-” Your words were cut off when he hung up on you.

You stared at your phone in shock for a moment or two before scrolling through your phone list. Half the people in your list were out-of-state and wouldn’t be able to help. You tried calling Ritu, Natasha, and Wanda, and not one of them picked up.

T’Challa’s name was in your contact list, but you didn’t know him that well, and you definitely didn’t feel like asking for special favors from him when you knew he was busy making plans for his wedding with Ritu. Maybe you could just text him and ask for Bucky’s number.

That thought made you a little uncomfortable. Why on earth would you want his number?

_Because he helped you once, maybe he could again,_ a little voice in your head reasoned.

“Shut up,” you grumbled to yourself. No way. _No way_ would you ask for his help again. He’d called truce and that was that.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to ask if he knew of any jobs open at any other companies. He had a lot of contacts; surely one of them could help. Your thumb brushed over the little message icon beside T’Challa’s name a couple of times as you debated with yourself.

The idea of not having a job or a home was too unnerving in the end, so you clicked the button and typed a quick message to T. He answered almost immediately, forwarding Bucky’s contact info to your phone.

You felt a little weird with this newfound information in your grasp. You were the one who’d been against Bucky having _your_ number, and here you were getting his, about to grovel like some loser who obviously couldn’t make it on her own.

Well, there went your mood. You decided to skip the café and opted for the sports bar next door instead. Time to have yourself a mid-afternoon shot of liquid courage.

Once you’d gone inside and had a quick shot of tequila, you typed a short message to send to Bucky.

_Hey, this is your neighbor Y/N. Do you have a minute?_

You stared at the text on your screen, on the verge of erasing the message entirely.

“You look like you’re about to have a nervous breakdown.”

Your head shot up and you met the eyes of the handsome bartender who’d given you the tequila. “I might be,” you told him, your mouth quirking up.

“Here, this one’s on the house, then,” he chuckled, sliding another shot your direction. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Thanks, Sam.” You quickly grabbed the shot and threw it back, cringing at the taste of the tequila. “I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, what’s got you so worked up?” He tossed his hand towel over his shoulder and leaned on the bar, giving you a handsome smile.

Was he _flirting_ with you? It’s been so long, you hardly knew what it was like anymore.

“Are you sure you’re ready for my melodrama?” you asked dryly, leaning your elbow on the bar top. You rested your chin on your hand and gave him a questioning look.

“I’m a bartender, trust me I’ve probably heard something way crazier than anything you’ve got.”

You took a deep breath. “I quit my job because I thought my crazy neighbor was trying to get me fired, I just had a crappy interview where I’m definitely not getting the job, and I’ve just been told that my lease won’t be renewed because I’ve taken too much time to decide on signing it or not.”

“Damn.” Sam stood up straight again. “That is a lot of melodrama for one person.”

“Yeah.” You have him a wry smile, feeling the tequila start to work. “And now I’m about to text that same crazy neighbor, because it turns out he’s actually kind of helpful and tolerable sometimes.”

“Why would you text him?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Seems to me like that guy’s not to be trusted.”

“I probably shouldn’t, but it seems like my best option at the moment.” You looked back down at your phone, chewing your lip thoughtfully.

“Tell you what,” he began, as if you were negotiating, “Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow, and we can discuss this further and see if we can come up with a plan. Then, if you still wanna text the guy, you can.”

That seemed reasonable. You had a couple days to clean your apartment, and you figured that it would take at least a couple more days for your landlord to find a new tenant.

You deleted the message you were going to send to Bucky and looked back up at Sam. “That sounds nice.”

* * *

The day hadn’t been a total waste, at least. You got the cute bartender’s number, and you’d gone on what you were now considering to be a practice interview. It had been good to get out for a while.

While you were away, you could pretend like things weren’t that bad, that you weren’t about to lose everything. There was a little bit of breathing room and a little bit of relief when you were distracted. Now that you faced your building again, you just felt sick.

Once you were inside your apartment, you took a quick shower and changed into your pajamas for an early night with Netflix. You couldn’t help but peek out of your window, and another wave of disappointment rolled through you when you saw Bucky’s curtains were closed again.

Maybe you were coming down with something. That would be the only reasonable explanation as to why you kind of missed having Bucky around. You figured it was a head cold; those are the ones to really mess up your thought process.

You had just settled under the covers and reached for the remote when your phone started ringing. Your brows furrowed as you reached for it. Whoever it was had better have a good reason for interrupting what was probably your last chance to enjoy your apartment in peace.

It was a New York number, but you didn’t recognize it. “Hello?”

“May I speak to a Miss Y/N Y/L/N, please?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded a little strange. 

“Speaking.” Your heart started racing. What could this be about? What if something bad had happened to one of your friends?

“I’m afraid I’ve got some news for you. I think you should sit down.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One phone call turns everything around. But is it enough?

The main lobby was a lot more comfortable than you’d been expecting, though you’d only seen the front entrance and reception area the last time you were here.

Most offices had one dirty coffee machine, those annoying little Styrofoam cups that were bad for the environment, and a TV blaring some terrible daytime talk show.

The lobby of Stark Industries, however, had soothing music, a wall fountain, giant chairs so comfy you could fall asleep on them, and a coffee vendor that rivaled Starbucks.

Judy, the receptionist at the front desk, had remembered you from that fateful day when you’d missed your interview. She was the one who had led you here, with the promise that she would notify Ms. Hill that you had arrived.

_I’m early, no less,_ you thought to yourself smugly. You’d gotten up super early to make sure everything would go right today. The outfit you were wearing, a grey skirt and a black blouse with a v-neck, was way more professional looking than the dress you’d worn last time.

The best part of all? No one tried to steal your cab and ruin your life this time. Maybe your luck was changing.  

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned in your seat and met the eyes of a lovely but stern-looking brunette woman. You stood quickly, reaching out your hand. “Call me Y/N, please. And you are?”

“Maria Hill,” she supplied with a nod, shaking your hand firmly. “Follow me, please, and we can begin the interview process.”

Maria led you to a little room with glass windows for walls. The outside of the door was marked Human Resources. “Please, this way.”

Disbelief mixed with excitement as you looked around. Could this really be happening? You were waiting for it all to be some cruel joke.

“Now,” she began, motioning for you to take a seat while she sat at the desk in front of you. “There are some confidentiality agreements you have to sign, and some paperwork for your drug test and background check. This is just for pre-employment consideration. There is even more for once you’ve been hired.”

“Of course,” you replied, trying not to sound as eager as you felt. “What happens after I finish all the pre-employment items?”

Maria’s lips formed a thin line as she looked up at you. “Then, you meet Mr. Stark.”

“Is that…normal?”

“Mr. Stark isn’t normal,” she sighed. “I’ll leave you to it. Just use this phone on the desk and dial extension 1007 when you’re done.”

The paperwork was fairly straightforward; no snitching on new developments, no discussing Mr. Stark or his personal life, no drugs or misuse of company time. It was standard stuff for a huge corporate office.

When you were done with everything, including the on-site drug test that left you a little embarrassed, you dialed Ms. Hill’s extension and were taken up to the floor with Mr. Stark’s offices.

You sat in a chair across from Maria’s office, tapping your foot and trying to calm the raging storm of nervousness inside you. That was definitely something that you needed to work on if you were ever going to succeed here.

You still couldn’t believe you were being given a second chance. Two days ago you’d answered your phone for a number you didn’t recognize, and now here you were.

> _“May I speak to a Miss Y/N Y/L/N, please?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded a little strange._
> 
> _“Speaking.” Your heart started racing. What could this be about? What if something bad had happened to one of your friends?_
> 
> _“I’m afraid I’ve got some news for you. I think you should sit down.”_
> 
> _“Who is this?” you asked, your mouth suddenly dry. The voice wasn’t one you recognized. “What’s this about?”_
> 
> _“Oh, right, right. I forgot this part.” The man cleared his throat. “Name’s Tony. Tony Stark.”_
> 
> _You almost dropped your phone; that had NOT been what you were expecting? “Is this some kind of prank?”_
> 
> _“No. I’m_ _Tony Stark. You know, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark? That’s me.”_
> 
> _“No, I-” you stumbled over your words. “I recognize the name, I just-“_
> 
> _“You want to know why I’m calling. Well, Miss- may I call you Y/N?”_
> 
> _“S-sure,” you stuttered. What the hell was happening?_
> 
> _“Well, Y/N, like I said, I’m afraid I’ve got some news for you. It turns out, I was deeply, deeply disappointed by my last open interview candidate selection.”_
> 
> _“O-okay?” Why was he afraid of this news, and why was he telling you?_
> 
> _“I asked my lovely assistant Maria to see if she had any other options and, lo and behold, your CV appeared on my desk.”_
> 
> _“Really? But I missed my interview.”_
> 
> _“Yeah, so it says on this yellow Post-It that I just conveniently tossed in the trash bin,” Tony shot back. “Listen, I don’t usually offer second chances, but I’ve had a look at your experience, and I’ve got to say I’m impressed.”_
> 
> _“You’re joking.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. Even you knew that you only had experience from university and your internship under your belt._
> 
> _“No, while I am extremely charming and hilarious, this is me being serious. You see, one of your former professors, James Rhodes, is one of my very best friends. When I called old Rhodey to see if he remembered you, I couldn’t get him to shut up. Turns out, he thought your final network project for his class was so damn impressive that he’d tried to get you to stay on for an assistant teaching position.”_
> 
> _There was a pause. “You turned him down, though, didn’t you?”_
> 
> _Your palms started to sweat. “I did.”_
> 
> _“Why?”_
> 
> _“To help with another project.” Where was he going with this?_
> 
> _“What project?” he prodded._
> 
> _You bit your lip before replying. “I assisted with the technology updates for inner city schools here in New York. It was a…non-profit project.”_
> 
> _“Right. You know I said ‘philanthropist’ in my introduction, right? Besides, you were highly recommended.”_
> 
> _Your eyes widened as you registered what he was saying. “You mean…?”_
> 
> _“Listen, we still have to go through the whole pre-employment and interview thing, but, if you’d like to come work for my tech division, I’d love to have you.”_

You blinked as Maria waved her hand in front of you, bringing you back to the present moment.

“Mr. Stark will see you now.”

“Thank you,” you told her, a sincere smile on your face. You weren’t about to be impolite to any of these people, not after this opportunity you were getting.

Mr. Stark’s office was bright and spacious, not at all like you’d pictured it. The man himself was sitting at a giant desk, chatting rather animatedly with someone on his mobile. When he saw you, he motioned you forward.

You sat gingerly in the chair in front of him as another wave of nervousness struck you.

“Pepper, I promise, I am telling you, I will be home before eight o’clock. Yes, we can go to that one restaurant. You know, the one with the shrimp cocktails bigger than my head. Yes. Okay, see you tonight.” He ended the call and rolled his eyes, though you could see the affection on his face. Pepper must be pretty special to him. “What you do for love,” he added, with a smirk.

You felt your cheeks heat a little. “Good morning, Mr. Stark.”

“Morning, Y/N. I see you’ve passed everything so far with flying colors. I meant what I said about being impressed with your work. You could even help me with some charity work on the side. Does your appearance here this morning mean you’ve agreed to be my new tech nerd?”

“I would agree to be your janitor, Mr. Stark,” you admitted, wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

He chuckled. “No need. I don’t want you to go all _Good Will Hunting_ on me. When can you start?”

“As soon as you want me to start.” It’s not like you had to give notice to any other job.

“Great. How’s tomorrow sound? Today, I need you to find a place to live.”

Your brow furrowed. “How did you-?”

“Your landlord was part of your reference and credit checks,” he informed you, standing to walk to the door. “He admitted that you weren’t a tenant anymore.”

You stood to follow him, unsure of where this was going. “Is that a condition of starting here?”

“No,” Tony said, looking at you like you were ridiculous. “It does help to have a place to live, though, don’t you think? Go see Maria. She’s got your signing bonus. Maybe use that for a security deposit on a new place for now.”

“Signing bonus?” You were sure your eyes were going to pop out of your head. “I don’t remember you offering a signing bonus?”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N. Bright and early.” He motioned for you to go to Maria’s office while he kept walking down the hall.

Your wide eyes met Maria’s, but all she could do was shrug.

* * *

Armed with a generous bonus, you decided to do exactly what Mr. Stark suggested and find a new apartment.

Available rental units were always snatched up quickly in Brooklyn, but you started your search there anyway, hoping to get first dibs on anything. You placed calls to all the big-name apartment managers in your neighborhood, but every single one told you that there was a waiting list.

You were determined not to give up. This huge, unbelievable gift of a second chance was not going to be wasted in _any_ way.

It was around mid-afternoon when you finally trudged back to your building to grab your laptop. You wanted to get some food, and you figured you could make yourself useful by searching for an apartment online while you ate.

“Y/N!” Ralph greeted you as you walked by. “Long time, no see!”

You offered him a sincere smile, turning to walk over to him. “Hi Ralph! How are you?”

“Just fine, and yourself?”

“I’m fantastic! I got a job at Stark Industries today!”

“That’s wonderful news, dear,” he said, beaming at you. “Have you sorted out an apartment yet?”

“No. I am on a bunch of waiting lists, though.”

Ralph leaned over and motioned for you to move closer. “There’s an apartment opening up in this building. Fourth floor, apartment D10. They are keeping it hush-hush right now because it means breaking their lease, but I think if you went and told them what was going on, they might be willing to make an arrangement.”

You really couldn’t believe the kind of day you were having. “You think?”

He nodded and opened the front door for you. “Go on. Go find out.”

“Thank you, Ralph! I owe you so much!” You gave him a kiss on the cheek before hurrying inside.  

It turned out that the lovely couple living in apartment D10 were expecting a baby and wanted to move to Long Island to start their family. Most of their apartment was already packed up, and they were on the verge of formally breaking their lease because they’d already bought a new home and were eager to move.  

When you explained your dilemma, they were quick to agree to let you take over the lease, pending management’s approval. The wad of cash from Tony Stark’s signing bonus didn’t hurt, either, when you offered them a little as a bribe baby shower gift.

It all ended up happening so quickly. The building manager agreed to let you take over the lease after you passed a credit check…and hearing where you worked boosted your status, it seemed.

“When can you move in?” The manager asked. “These two are apparently vacating over the weekend.”

“I can move in over the weekend,” you told him. “I just live next door.”

Your signing bonus was spent, but now you had a job, a decent place to live, and best of all, you would be able to stay in Brooklyn.

Luckily, you were alone in the elevator ride back down to the lobby, because you couldn’t stop doing a happy dance. Your arms and legs and hips were shaking happily as you chanted “new job, new place” to yourself over and over. The dancing stopped only so that you could text Sam and your friends about all your good news.

_That’s fantastic,_  Sam texted back. _Celebration dinner tomorrow after work? 8pm?_

_Sure,_ you replied, adding a smiley face.

When the elevator doors opened, a little shock of surprise hit you.

Bucky Barnes was standing there, his arm around a beautiful auburn-haired woman that you’d never seen before. She was nibbling his ear and giggling, and his grin told you he was definitely enjoying her attention.

When his gaze met yours, he didn’t bother to hide his own surprise. “Y/N?”

“Bucky,” you said curtly, stepping around the woman and trying to make a break for the exit.

“What are you doing here?”

“Dropping off a baby shower gift,” you replied smoothly, turning back to face him. It wasn’t really lying so much as bending the truth.

The woman beside him was getting whiny. “Come on, Bucky, I wanna go upstairs.”

His brow furrowed as he reached in his pocket and handed a key to the woman. “Go ahead, Alicia,” he told her. “I’ll be right up.”

Alicia glared at you one last time before getting on the elevator and disappearing.

Bucky walked over to stand in front of you. “How have you been?”

“Fine. I got a new job.” You shrugged one shoulder, glancing around the lobby so you didn’t have to meet his eyes.

“I’m happy for you.”

That made you look at him. He had a small smile on his face and his eyes were sincere. “You are?”

He chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You hate me, remember?”

“I thought it was the other way around?” He raised an eyebrow, eyes showing amusement. “I distinctly remember you blaming me for ruining your life.”

Now you felt stupid all over again. “I’m sorry about that,” you replied sheepishly. “Everything seemed to be falling apart at once, and-“

Bucky waved a hand to stop you. “Don’t worry about it. Anyways, I’m glad things are working out for you.” He took a couple steps backwards, a smirk appearing on his face. “If you’ll excuse me, Alicia is probably getting antsy.”

A tight feeling in your chest made you uncomfortable. “Have fun.”

“Oh, _I will_ ,” he called back, winking at you right before the elevator doors closed.

Your good mood suddenly dissipated, replaced by that same irritation that he always seemed to incite in you. 

Why the hell did Bucky Barnes always find a way to ruin everything? Why the hell did fate ensure that you’d see him often, either at work or in this apartment building? Why the hell had you bothered trying to be nice to such a douchey man-whore?

Most of all, why the hell were you suddenly so _jealous?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ya just can’t keep a good Bucky down.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

“Uh, Y/N?”

You looked up from the digital screen in front of you, blinking to adjust your eyes. “Yes?”

Your office partner offered a funny look in return. “Can you, uh, not tap your pen? It’s distracting and it kind of grates on my nerves.”

“Oh!” You set your pen down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I was doing that. Nervous habit, I guess.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Bruce’s face disappeared again behind his own screen.

You leaned up in your seat to try to get a better look. Bruce Banner was a real mystery. He was quiet, seemed kind of shy, and always used a gentle tone.

But then there were times when you were _almost positive_ he was counting backwards from ten so he didn’t lash out at you.

You were pretty sure he learned a trick like that in anger management or something, and you didn’t want to find out why he’d needed such a class in the first place, so you spent most of your time being quiet, too.

With a soft sigh, you scooted your chair out – _gently_ – and stood, stretching your limbs that hadn’t moved in hours. “I’m going to run down and get some coffee, would you like any?”

“No, thank you.” His face appeared again and he gave you a shrug. “Too much caffeine sets my nerves on edge.”

“Definitely don’t want that,” you muttered under your breath, turning to go to the door.

Your first week at Stark Industries had been nothing short of amazing. The research and development that was going on here was so cutting edge that every time you were invited into a lab, you felt like a little kid in a candy store.

All that time spent trying to prove yourself in a male-dominated STEM field was finally paying off. The other techs here respected your opinion, and always included you in discussions. This was an environment where intellect and innovation were respected more than anything else, and you couldn’t wait to get to work every day.

What a difference a little time makes in the great big scheme of things.

There had been only one little rain cloud over your head, and his name was Bucky Barnes. Or, James Buchanan Barnes, as you’d come to learn by the official name plate outside of his office.

You hadn’t been stalking him. You were being nosy. There was a big, big legal difference between the two.

Seeing his given name on a big corner office made him seem like more of an adult somehow, though you knew firsthand how prone to acting like a bratty child he was.

Anyway, most days you tried to avoid him. It helped that he worked on a different floor.

You wandered into the cafeteria and straight over to the coffee vendor, where two women were already in line chatting with each other.

“Did you hear about Mr. Barnes?” a woman with jet black hair asked, smirking at her friend.

You perked up at the sound of his name, trying to play it cool while you eavesdropped.

“No, what about him?” The second woman looked at her with a frown, her dark eyes pleading. “Daiyu, if you’re going to tell me that he asked you out-“

“No, Gloria, don’t be stupid,” Daiyu said with a laugh. “You _know_ he doesn’t date coworkers.”

You tried to ignore the little flip your stomach did when she said that. Maybe you were just hungry.

Gloria moved forward to grab her coffee from the barista. “Thank you,” she said politely, before turning to narrow her eyes at her friend. “Well, go on then, tell me?”

Yeah, you should definitely try one of the muffins, so your stomach will stop flip-flopping. You wondered if they had any blueberry left.

“I heard he’s got a girlfriend.” Daiyu grabbed her coffee with a quick thanks, and the two walked away. You couldn’t hear them anymore.

A girlfriend? Bucky has a girlfriend? Was it that dumb Alicia woman, the one you’d told him to go have fun with? You could kick yourself, what were you-

Wait. What _were_ you thinking? Why did you care?

You chewed your lip, lost in thought before the barista brought you back to reality. “What’ll it be?”

“I’ll have a small latte, please, and a blueberry muffin.”

“And I’ll take an iced coffee, black.”

You turned with wide eyes at the familiar voice. “So, you _did_ order that from Trevor, you liar.”

Bucky grinned at you. “I was trying to get him in trouble so he’d leave you alone.”

“That wasn’t very nice,” you scoffed. “In fact, it’s probably what started this mess.”

“What mess?” He motioned around you. “Does this look like a mess to you? You’ve got a great job now. Ralph says you’ve moved into my _much nicer_ building.” Bucky took a step closer, his expression smug. “I’d say meeting me was the best thing to ever happen to you, wouldn’t you?”

You felt a bit of anger flare again. Maybe you needed to borrow Bruce’s counting method. “For your information, I would probably have gotten the job a while ago had you not taken my cab.”

Bucky turned back to the coffee stand, eyes crinkling at the corners. “This again.”

You grabbed the blueberry muffin from the barista, and it took all of your control not to shove it in Bucky’s giant mouth. 

His jaw clenched a little while you glared at the side of his face. “See something you like?” he asked, glancing at you.

You let out an unladylike snort. “You wish.”

The barista set a coffee down and motioned you forward. You reached for your wallet, but Bucky beat you to it, throwing some money down first. “It’s on me,” he told the man, before handing you the latte you’d ordered.

That was kind of nice of him. “Thank you.” You wondered what he was going to do next to ruin the moment.

“You’re welcome.” His hands went in his pockets as he waited for his own drink. There was a few beats of silence. “You’re still here?”

Your brows furrowed a little at that. Something about him handing _you_ a coffee felt a little weird. “You used to stop in and get coffee from the shop in the mornings.”

“Yeah? So?” He side-eyed you for a second, his jaw clenching again.

An idle thought formed in the back of your mind as you kept staring. You kind of wanted to press your mouth to his jawline to see if you could get him to do that a third time.

_Whoa. What the hell? Where did that come from?_

“So, you had not one, but _two_ coffee vendors here.” Your eyes flickered back up to his as you tried to erase that last thought you’d had.

“Doesn’t taste the same,” he offered with a shrug. “Don’t you have work to be doing?”

You grinned, knowing you had something on him. “Did you stop in just to see me?”

Bucky grabbed his iced coffee, then turned to you. His face came a little too close for comfort. “Maybe I just liked telling you what to do.”

He smirked the second your grin fell. You’d definitely lost this banter round, with heat rising in your cheeks again. 

_Dammit._

“See you around, Doll,” he said over his shoulder as he sauntered away, taking a big sip from his coffee. Every woman in the cafeteria (and some men, too) turned to watch him.

The woman from earlier, Gloria, approached you, her eyes wide. “You know him?”

“Yes,” you ground out irritably. “But trust me, I wish I didn’t.”

* * *

You loved your new job, but you also loved the feeling of coming home to a cozy apartment.

The best part about this new apartment was that everything worked. Your shower didn’t leak, your window latch wasn’t broken, and your bedroom window faced a park instead of another apartment building. No more creepy pervs trying to catch a glimpse of you while you were changing.

You had decided to have a little gathering for your friends now that you’d finished setting everything up just the way you wanted.

The first hour home from work was spent on a shower, followed by an intense cooking session. Your shiny new stainless steel oven was getting its first use while you baked a homemade three-cheese lasagna for your closest friends.

Ritu and T’Challa arrived bearing a housewarming gift, a beautiful blue vase that probably cost more than a month’s rent. Wanda and Natasha had arrived bearing lots of wine. Sam showed up last since his bartending shift had just ended. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before revealing that he had your favorite flowers behind his back.

Still, something was nagging you, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you felt like something was missing.

Or rather, like some _one_ was missing. Sure, you’d said that you wished you didn’t know him, but it never hurt to be friendly…to his face.

So while everyone else was settling at a long table you’d borrowed from Mrs. Gunderson across the hall, you snuck into the bathroom, pulled out your mobile, and opened a new text. You typed a short message and hit send before you could change your mind.

You reached for your wine glass and took a bigger gulp than is acceptable for a dinner party.

“Hey, Y/N?” Natasha called to you once you’d stepped back into the dining area. “Why is there an extra place setting?”

“We’re waiting on one more person,” you replied. The setting was there because you’d thought about inviting him earlier and chickened out. What if he said no? You’d be humiliated.  

“Really?” Ritu looked around the table. “Who else do you know?”

A knock sounded behind you. _Damn, he was quick._ You gave your friends a sheepish smile before you moved to open the front door.

Bucky Barnes stood there, eyes wide, dressed in a nice button-down shirt and dark jeans. “What’s this about free food?”

“A peace offering,” you told him, rolling your eyes. “So that we can try to be friends without animosity.”

“I never had any animosity toward you.” Bucky walked into the room, his face showing some uncertainty until he saw T’Challa. You’d put the extra place setting beside him so that they could talk. “Hey, man.”

“Bucky,” T’Challa greeted with a nod. He shot you a knowing look which you chose to ignore.

“I’m guessing you’re how this one-“ Bucky threw a thumb over his shoulder at you, “- got my number?”

With another nod and a big grin, he pointed to the seat beside him. “Never know when it would come in handy, right?”

“I guess so,” Bucky agreed, glancing back to you before greeting the rest of the guests. He said hello to everyone with a smile until his eyes fell on Sam. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Nah,” Sam agreed. “I’m Sam Wilson.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bucky Barnes.” He held out his hand to Sam, who shook it begrudgingly. “How do you know Y/N?”

“We’ve gone out a couple times,” Sam said, his eyes sharp. “You?”

Everyone at the table watched for Bucky’s reaction, but he didn’t really have one. “Neighbors, and now colleagues.”

Sam gave a nod, and the two of them kept their stare-down going as Bucky took his seat. Why on earth had you sat Sam and Bucky across from each other?

You moved quickly to grab the lasagna dish from the kitchen counter and set it beside the salad bowl. As long as they had food in their mouths, Sam couldn’t bring up anything you’d mentioned to him about Bucky, and Bucky wouldn’t end up in a headlock. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

After a ton of lasagna, good conversation, and even more wine, you were ready to declare this dinner a success. You finally felt like a grownup, having dinner parties, a great job, and a fantastic apartment. You were casually dating a cute guy who owned his own business, and best of all, you still lived in _Brooklyn_.

The others had showered you with compliments on your cooking and how you’d decorated your place. Even as they filed out the door, they made you promise to host more. Everyone else loved Brooklyn now, too.

You were so distracted by the glowing compliments you’d gotten that you _almost_ missed what Sam was saying.

“Sure, we’ll go. When is it?”

“Tomorrow, eight o’clock. I have reservations.”

What the hell was Sam agreeing to? You made your way over to the door where two grown men were facing off. “What’s going on?”

Bucky turned to you with an evil gleam in his eyes. “Sam here just said he’d help me out. I had a double date tomorrow, but the other couple bailed. He agreed to bring you so that we didn’t lose our reservation.”

You felt your body go cold, turning your hard gaze to Sam. “This is something you probably should have asked me about first, don’t you think?”

“I figured it would be a good way to clear the air,” Sam said, his glare never leaving Bucky’s face. “We were going to go to dinner anyways.”

“Yeah, but-“

“So that’s settled.” Bucky gave a sharp nod. “I hired a driver for the night, so we don’t have to worry about cabs.”

This was all happening pretty fast. You wished the others hadn’t left so quickly after dinner, then you could have convinced T’Challa and Ritu to go instead. “Where are we going?”

“Mancini’s,” Bucky supplied.

Your jaw dropped. You’d been dying to go there for months but there were never any reservations. “How did you manage that one?”

“I know Tony Stark pretty well,” he said with a shrug. “Anyways, tomorrow. Dress up. See you then!” He exited without another look back.

The door closed in your face and you knew you looked like a slack-jawed moron as you turned to face Sam.

He rolled his eyes. “That guy is so smug.”

You felt that familiar anxiety starting to build. “I- I have to be at work early tomorrow. I need to head to bed.”

“But tomorrow’s Saturday?” He gave you a strange look.  

“I know, but I have a special project I have to go in for, and Bruce is expecting me,” you rambled, lies flying out of your mouth one after the other. “Anyways, goodnight Sam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gave you a peck on the cheek before reaching for the door handle. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

The moment he left, you leaned your back against the door. You did have a project you should be working on, but you hadn’t planned on going in on a freaking Saturday morning. It was too late now; you’d feel guilty if you didn’t. Besides, you were all worked up again. You’d need something to take your mind off of going on a double date.

You couldn’t believe Bucky had gotten reservations at Mancini’s, but it made sense if he had connections. Tony Stark-

Your eyes widened.

_Bucky knows Tony Stark well._

It all made sense to you. The random phone call with a job offer at just the right moment…Ralph telling you about the convenient apartment deal…

_Bucky was behind it the whole time._

You felt like your throat was closing as the realization hit you. He was still playing a game, and you’d been totally unaware. You thought you’d _earned_ all this positivity in your life on merit alone, not because some guy with power and influence felt like you were his charity case.

He’d let you gush about your new job and your new apartment in front of him, in front of all your friends, and didn’t say a damn word. This was so _humiliating_! You appreciated that he wanted to make amends, but he could have at least _told_ you.

Your eyes narrowed at the empty apartment in front of you, and an evil grin turned the corners of your mouth upward.

Bucky Barnes had _no idea_ what was in store for him tomorrow night. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope your dinner goes better than this one.

Stark Industries employees were all masochists, you’d decided.

It was Saturday morning, and there were _so many_ people here working that it made you feel like a slacker. Sure, most of them made three times what you do, but you still had trouble believing that this many people would give up their weekends.

Tony Stark was good to his employees, though. Today, there were two lunch trucks parked outside that Tony had specifically asked for. One was a shawarma truck, and the other had Thai food. There was also a masseuse on hand for anyone that needed some stress relief.

Employees who worked on the weekend were _definitely_ spoiled. You’d go into the office on a Saturday every week if you got delicious food each time.

When lunchtime finally rolled around, you wandered down to the food trucks and stood at the end of the Thai line, only to look over and see Bucky Barnes standing in the shawarma line.

You looked away quickly, hoping that he didn’t see you. Why was he here? You didn’t see him in the elevator or the lobby or anything. His usual gaggle of fangirls hadn’t been gushing over him at the coffee vendor. You’d thought you were in the free and clear today.

“Hmmm.”

Your body stiffened, but you refused to turn around.

“Suddenly I want Thai food,” Bucky said behind you.

You pretended not to hear him.

“Since it isn’t Italian food, it won’t ruin my appetite for later, after all,” he continued, clearly trying to get your attention.

You pressed your lips together and pulled out your mobile, checking random emails that you’d already looked at.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“I would have thought that was pretty obvious,” you told him, finally turning to look at him.

Bucky moved a little closer to stand beside you in line as it shifted forward a little. “And here I thought we were doing the whole peace treaty thing. Did you change your mind?”

“No. I just wanted to eat lunch in peace, since Sam is forcing me to go to dinner with you.”

He grinned. “Yeah, this should be an interesting night.”

You eyed him. “Why’d you ask us?”

Bucky’s eyes shifted to meet your gaze. He had the decency to look a little surprised by your question. “Why not?”

The line moved a little closer to the front. You were practically salivating at the smell. “Because you don’t seem like the double date type.”

“This would be a first for me,” he admitted, scratching his chin.

Finally it was your turn in line. You ordered your favorite dish, then looked at Bucky expectantly. “Go on and order.”

“Why?”

“Because you paid for my coffee, so I’m buying lunch.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, but didn’t argue as he placed his own order and let you pay for both meals.

When you grabbed your food container, he motioned for you to follow him to the cafeteria.

“I can’t,” you told him. “I have to go back to work. Bruce and I are nearly finished with a proposal for an upgrade for Tony.”

“Ah, okay then.” Bucky made a face. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” You turned and got in the elevator, pushing the button for the tech floor.

Bucky was still watching you from the lobby. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the elevator doors closed first.

* * *

“Damn,” Sam commented softly as you did a little turn in your living room for him. You had decided on a navy blue dress with silver heels that almost looked like glass. Your paycheck increase had afforded you the chance to shop for a few frivolous things, including those $200 heels that made you feel like Cinderella.

Wanda had come over to do your hair and makeup, insisting that if you were going to Mancini’s, you had to look like you belonged there. It was her favorite restaurant, and she didn’t want you to ‘stick out like a sore thumb.’

“Was that a good damn, or a ‘you’re trying too hard’ damn?” you asked in a teasing voice. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t even need validation from a man tonight. You _knew_ you looked good.

“It was an ‘I can’t believe you’re my date’ damn,” he replied, handing over your coat.

Winter weather had officially arrived for the season, and you didn’t want to face the blustery cold without your coat and scarf. It was a shame you had to cover up your beautiful dress, though.

The two of you met Bucky and his date in the lobby, since Bucky had hired a driver for the night. Bucky looked handsome as always, wearing a gorgeous all-black designer suit and a thin black tie. His date turned out to be a woman you’d never met before named Jane Foster.

The car ride to the restaurant was filled with Jane talking about herself and her work. She was a genius physicist with a narcissistic side, but you couldn’t deny that she was beautiful and interesting.

You felt a familiar, _unwanted_ pang of jealousy in your gut. She was an upgraded version of you, really. You were smart, you considered yourself to be attractive, and you were educated.

Jane, on the other hand, was highly educated, super smart, and drop-dead gorgeous.

_NO_ , you thought to yourself, biting your lip. _Stop comparing yourself to her!_

You turned your gaze to the tinted window. The city lights and the people walking around were enough to distract you for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Mancini’s turned out to be just as lovely as you’d hoped. The walls were dark, and the lighting was dim but comfortable. 

The four of you were led to a table that was shaped like a perfect square. You sat across from Jane, with Bucky on your left and Sam on your right. Your table was toward the front, but you didn’t mind because it was also closer to the pianist, so you could hear the lovely music. The soft glow of candlelight set a mood that was far too romantic for your taste; you were only casually seeing Sam, and you barely knew the other couple. This seemed a little too intimate.

Okay, so that one part wasn’t all that accurate. You knew Bucky pretty well by now. Your eyes glanced up to see him pouring over his menu, the candlelight reflecting in his eyes and making him seem softer, more approachable. He wasn’t all that bad. He was actually a pretty great guy.

That’s why you should _probably_ feel bad for the things you were about to do tonight, but you couldn’t. Maybe you’d regret it tomorrow, but that was for Future Y/N to deal with.

Present Y/N wanted to change the rules of this peace treaty a little, just to get some payback for the secrecy.

You’d devised a fairly petty plan to humiliate Bucky and get him to leave you alone for good.

As soon as Bucky ordered some wine, you knew the night was going to get a little more interesting. The first bottle was empty before the waiter even took orders for your main courses, so Bucky insisted on buying a second bottle. It couldn’t have been cheap, but you weren’t about to say no to some liquid courage.

“Sea bass, sea bass, sea bass,” you heard Jane mutter to herself as she perused the menu.

“Which way’s the beach?” Sam joked, grinning at Jane.

“What?” she asked absentmindedly.

His face fell. “Never mind.”

You saw the waiter coming back with a water pitcher to refill everyone’s glasses. The second he started pouring water into Bucky’s glass, you pretended to sneeze, ‘accidentally’ bumping the waiter’s elbow and sending water flying all over Bucky’s suit.

He stood up with a loud yelp as the cold water soaked his pants.

“I’m so sorry,” the waiter said, rushing to go get something to soak up the water.

“It was my fault,” you said sheepishly. “My sneeze must have startled him.”

Bucky glared at you as he tried to wipe the excess water from his pants, but remained totally silent.

“It’s not your fault,” Sam told you, leaning over a little. “You can’t help that you had to sneeze.”

“Maybe she should keep her elbows in while she’s sneezing,” Bucky retorted, his brows furrowed in what could only be described as humiliated anger.

“Sorry,” you shrugged. Deep down, you were shrieking with laughter.

The waiter came back with more napkins and a second bottle of wine. Instead of letting the waiter pour this time, Bucky grabbed the bottle and proceeded to pour wine for himself and everyone else.

_Damn_.

“I’m going to try to go dry off more,” Bucky grumbled, headed for the restroom. He looked up at Jane. “Could you order me the Chicken Marsala?”

“Sure,” she said with a small smile.

You eyed her for a second as he took off to the back where the restrooms were. “Jane, did you know Bucky is a big fan of garlic? Like, he _loves_ it.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” you lied smoothly. “Can’t get enough of it.”

“Maybe I’ll ask them to put extra garlic in it.”

_You do that,_ you thought to yourself, biting back a grin when she mentioned it to your waiter. You were going to have to leave him a big tip to make up for your shenanigans.

You’d heard Bucky say at your dinner party that he was glad you hadn’t used any garlic in the lasagna you made because he absolutely hated when it was overused, so you’d tucked that information into your brain for later use. It turned out that it was going to come in handy tonight.

When Bucky came back to the table, you and Sam were listening to Jane drone on and on about her work.

“…So we measured the distance between the waves, and-“

Her super boring story was interrupted when your dinners arrived. Your food looked amazing, and so did everyone else’s, but the smell of garlic hung heavy in the air.

You couldn’t help but watch as Bucky cut into his food and took a bite.

The way his face scrunched at the taste of the garlic was priceless. You wish you’d pulled out your camera to save this moment forever.

He spit the food back into his napkin. “This is…this is terrible,” he exclaimed.

Jane frowned. “You don’t like it?”

“There’s way too much garlic in it.”

“But, Y/N told me you loved garlic, so I had them put extra in it for you.” She looked at you in confusion. “Didn’t you say that?”

“She definitely said that,” Sam agreed.

You smiled sweetly at Bucky. “You mentioned loving garlic at my apartment, the night I made lasagna for everyone.”

If looks could kill, you’d be dead on the floor right now. “I said that I _hated_ too much garlic.”

“Oh,” you said innocently. “I’m so sorry! I could have sworn you said loved.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared as he looked down at his food. “I can’t eat this, I’ll get sick.”

Jane moved her plate in between the two of them. She’d gotten the same thing, just without the garlic. “We can share, I don’t mind. This is too much for me to eat anyways.”

“Thanks, Doll,” he said softly, emphasizing that last word.

Your eyes narrowed. You’d only ever heard him call you Doll.

_Was he on to you?_

Time to pull out the big guns. “So Jane, did you know Sam is a successful business owner?”

“Oh?” she asked, looking totally disinterested.

“Yes, he owns a great bar and restaurant in the heart of Brooklyn. It’s _amazing._ ”

“I don’t know if it’s amazing, but it does pretty well,” Sam replied, smiling at Jane. “You two should come by some time.”

“I just admire that so much,” you continued. “And there’s so much football memorabilia, because Sam knows some of the Mets.”

“Jets,” he corrected with a grin.

“Since when do you care about football?” Bucky asked. “I saw you wearing an NHL shirt the other day.”

Okay, he had you there. Football was stupid, hockey was the best. “It was a gift.”

His eyebrow raised, but he didn’t say anything else about it. You could tell he knew you were full of shit.

“Sam’s the one who helped me move into my new apartment,” you added. “Gosh, I don’t know what I would do without him.”

“It was nothing,” Sam shrugged.

“And the doorman, Ralph, he’s the one that tipped me off about the apartment. He told me he’d asked around, and he’s the reason I had the insider info on the lease that was available.”

Bucky dropped his fork with a loud clatter.

You bit your lip to stop from grinning. “And Tony Stark, my goodness. That man is a saint. He told me that when he saw my resume, he was so impressed he couldn’t pass me up. I’d be jobless still if it wasn’t for him.”

“Not true,” Sam argued. “I would have let you work for me.”

Bucky took that chance to speak up. “So you heard that Tony just…he just out of the blue picked up your resume?”

Time to reel in your catch of the day.

“Yep,” you said, faking a smile. “Tony told me that Maria is the one who gave him my resume, technically, but she’d told him about me missing my interview – thanks again, Bucky, for that – and he just couldn’t go another day without my technical skills. Plus, it didn’t hurt that one of my professors at university is his best friend.”

Bucky was glaring at you now.

“Man, Bucky, just think how much easier my life would have been if you’d just let me get that cab,” you said finally.

Okay, he was fuming now. His eyes were narrowed and you could see his chest rising as he tried to calm himself down.

Would he finally admit what he’d done in front of everyone? That was something you left him to stew over as you excused yourself to the restroom.

You made your way through the maze of tables carefully, knowing that if your plan had worked, _someone_ was probably watching you walk away at this very moment.

It was a confrontation you were after. You _wanted_ him to say he’d been behind everything, and you wanted to know _why_.

You took your time in the restroom, washing and drying your hands slowly. You checked your hair and makeup, and with a little smirk to yourself, turned and walked back out into the dim hallway that led back to the main dining area.

A hand reached out and grabbed your arm, and you were spun back around, face-to-face with Bucky.

“Y/N,” he practically growled. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I was washing my hands, I-”

“No,” Bucky interrupted, not bothering to hide his frustration. He ran a hand through his hair. “That little act you have going on, is that for Jane’s benefit, or Sam’s?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t?” he sputtered. “Are you trying to ruin my date with Jane?”

Your eyes narrowed dangerously. “I couldn’t care less about how Jane feels about you.”

He shifted closer to you, his own brow furrowing. “So is this for attention from Sam, then?”

“No.”

“Why are you acting like you still _hate_ me?” His voice cracked a little, and he turned from you for a second. You heard him exhale before he turned back to you. “Y/N, I’m not who you think I am.”

“Then who are you?” you challenged. “Why did you get me a job, and the apartment? You act like I’m only here for your amusement, so why do you keep _saving_ me?”

“Y-you knew?” His eyes widened in disbelief. “This whole time?”

Now it was you who moved closer, your face mere inches from his. “ _Why,_ Bucky?”

Bucky stared at you helplessly, as if he didn’t know what to say.

Your next move was not very calculated.

It took less than two seconds to close the distance as you crushed your lips to his. Your hand snaked over his shoulder to the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

You felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Bucky’s other hand cupped your face, his head tilting slightly as he deepened the kiss.

You felt as if lightning had struck you and set your whole body on fire.

His lips parted and you quickly took advantage, sliding your tongue against his.

It was the low groan he let slip out that brought you back to reality. You pulled away, breathless, and immediately stepped backwards. His arms fell to his sides as he struggled to regain his own composure.

“Why did you do that?” he panted, running a hand down his face. His pupils were blown black with what could only be desire.

You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant though your heart was racing. “I wanted to.”

“But you can’t stand me?”

That made you chuckle. “I might have been mistaken.”

Bucky could only stare. “Is this some kind of payment for what I did for you?”

You blinked a few times, hoping that maybe you’d misheard him. “Excuse me?”

“Did you kiss me because of what I-“

“I heard you the first time,” you snapped. Anything you’d felt from the kiss was instantly replaced with anger. “You’re saying I’m trying to hook up with you to pay you back?”

“Are you?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve literally never shown interest, I can’t help but think…”

Tears sprung to your eyes, much to your humiliation. “I’m going back to my date. This-” you gestured between the two of you “ _-never happened_.”

“Wait, Y/N-“

You stalked back to the table, threw enough money down to cover yourself, Sam, and a tip for the waiter you’d embarrassed, and told Sam you were leaving.

Jane and Bucky were left staring after you as you both put your coats on and walked out, though Sam did thank them both and say goodnight first. The two of you grabbed a cab back to your apartment.

There was no way you were going to accept another penny, another favor, another _anything_ from Bucky Barnes.

“Y/N,” Sam began gently as he walked you to your door. “We need to talk.”

“You’re right,” you agreed. You opened the door and let him in.

It was time to tell him the truth, one you’d only just figured out for yourself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a real-life power outage and some rosé. PS - I hate snowstorms.

One peek outside the window was all it took for you to see that it was snowing heavily. The woman on the Weather Channel had mentioned that there was a possibility of a nor’easter this weekend. She said that it could lead to heavy snow, high winds, and downed power lines.

Great. _Just great._ Maybe instead of buying $200 heels, you should have invested in snow boots.

You heaved a great sigh as you turned from your window. At least it had waited until a Friday night to snow.

It’s not like you had any big plans, after all. No dates, no anything.

Your mind drifted back to the conversation you’d had with Sam last Saturday.

> _Just as you’d shut your door, Sam had motioned for you to sit on the couch beside him. His eyes met yours and while you wanted to look away, you didn’t. You owed him this moment._
> 
> _“How long have you known?” he asked quietly._
> 
> _“Known what?”_
> 
> _The corner of his mouth lifted. “Come on, Y/N.”_
> 
> _“I just realized it tonight,” you admitted, your eyes dropping to your lap._
> 
> _“Really?”_
> 
> _“Why?” You found your sleeve to be very interesting. “When did you think I realized it?”_
> 
> _“The day you came to do two shots of tequila in my bar.”_
> 
> _That made you glance back up in surprise. “What? You’re joking.”_
> 
> _Sam gave you a sad smile. “I should have known better than to indulge myself in a couple dates with you when I knew your heart belonged to someone else.” He exhaled and reached for your hand, offering it a gentle squeeze. “I’m not mad. I knew it then. You were so upset, Y/N, and you kept bringing him up, and looking at your phone…I just…I guess I hoped that if I could woo you, everything would be okay.”_
> 
> _You were stunned into silence. What do you even say to that?_
> 
> _“But I was wrong,” he continued, “and I think you need to consider a truce. A real one this time, where the two of you talk about yourselves over dinner, alone, without all this ridiculous sexual tension. And don’t tell me there isn’t any, I saw the lipstick on his mouth when you came stalking back from the restrooms that night.”_
> 
> _You felt so ashamed. “I’m sorry for that.”_
> 
> _“Don’t be.” Sam let go of your hand and tweaked your nose playfully. “But if I ever see you in my bar again and you aren’t holding that douchebag’s hand, I’m going to charge you three times what I would a normal person.”_
> 
> _Laughter bubbled out of you along with relief. “So you’re saying I’m not normal?”_
> 
> _“Oh, Y/N,” he patted the top of your head. “Not by a long shot.”_

Sam had been so nice about everything, probably nicer than you deserved. He asked that the two of you stay friends, which you readily agreed to, because he was such a good person.

It turned out that Jane had gone to see his bar after all, and brought her friend Darcy with her. Darcy and Sam hit it off immediately, and they had their first date tonight. You had texted him good luck earlier with a smiley face, and his reply had been a simple command: _talk to him._

You hoped they were fairing okay in the snowstorm as you made your way downstairs to the lobby. Ralph was standing inside the double glass doors, staring out into the blustery cold.

“Evening, Ralph,” you said with a smile. “How are you holding up in this weather?”

Ralph’s face lit up when he saw you. “I’m doing just fine, Miss Y/N.” His smile fell a little. “You weren’t planning on going out in that, were you?”

“I haven’t got any food, I was just going to run down to the Panera down the street and-“

“Oh, everything’s closing early,” he said, shaking his head. “No point going out if you don’t have to. The roads are covered.”

You wanted to argue, but pressed your hands against the glass window beside the doorway instead. “I don’t really have any food…”

“Well maybe he can help with that,” Ralph said, nodding outside when you looked at him in question.

Bucky was rushing up to the doors, a very large bag of what appeared to be Chinese takeout in his hand.

You were closer to the door than Ralph, so you opened it for him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, stopping to wipe his shoes on the doormat and shake the snow from his hair and clothes. “It’s a mess out there.”

“I was just telling Y/N here that she shouldn’t go out in it,” Ralph agreed. “She’s fighting me on it, though.”

Bucky turned his stormy blue-grey eyes to you. “Why would you want to go out in that? It’s not safe.”

You shrugged, trying to seem calm and collected around him even though butterflies were doing backflips in your stomach at the mere sight of him. “I don’t have any food.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of a grocery store?” he asked, his eyebrows raised. “I have food. You can have some of this.”

Your brows furrowed. “But-“

“But nothing, come on.”

You glanced at Ralph with a ‘ _what have you done’_ look before trudging after Bucky. He pushed the call button for the elevator and looked anywhere but at you.

“You must not have anything, either, if you went out for takeout,” you commented casually. 

“I’d ordered it for delivery, but I felt bad and called back to say I’d pick it up. The roads are awful.”

Your heart did that stupid fluttery thing that it does when he does something good for humanity. “That was nice of you.”

Bucky just shrugged. When the elevator doors opened, he motioned for you to go first, which you did. He followed, pushing the button for the second floor.

“Why do you take the elevator when you only live two flights of stairs up from the lobby?” you asked, trying to make conversation.

“Convenience,” he replied.

Okay then. He was a man of many words tonight, obviously. 

Just as the elevator began to move, the lights flickered and then went out, causing the elevator to lurch and stop. Backup lights came on, though they were much dimmer and you could barely make out Bucky’s face now.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine…you?”

“Fine.” He set the takeout bag down on the floor and pressed the emergency call button. Nothing happened. “What’s the point of having this if it goes out with the power?”

“I’m not sure,” you replied, watching as he grew more and more restless. “But these things never last long.”

“Maybe when there isn’t heavy wet snow falling on power lines,” he replied, his eyes squeezing shut.

It hit you then; Bucky was uncomfortable. “Is there anything I can do to make this less awful for you?”

Bucky opened one eye, then the other, looking at you in question.

“You seem anxious,” you supplied gently.

“Ah,” he sighed out. “I hate feeling trapped. It’s just…It’s not that it’s a closed space. It doesn’t happen in most moving things…just…I hate feeling trapped.”

You nodded, though you didn’t really know what that was like. “Well, we were going to have dinner, right? Let’s distract ourselves.”

He glanced down at the bag. “Fair enough. Let me just call the power company first.”

* * *

A whole hour had gone by already with no notion that the two of you were going to get out of this elevator alive.

Okay, so _maybe_ that was a tad dramatic, but Bucky’s anxiety was beginning to seep into you.

The two of you had distracted yourselves with eating as he placed containers of Chinese food between you, him with the chopsticks and you using the plastic spoon they’d thrown in the bag. You managed to find an unopened water bottle in your bag, and the two of you shared that also. The conversation was light, talking about work, or the weather, or anything to keep your minds off of the fact that you were trapped together in an elevator.

Well, it had been light, until you opened your big mouth, as he collected the empty containers and put them back in the bag.

“Do you have any family around here?”

Bucky paused for only a second. “No.”

All right then. You debated whether or not to push on for more answers, but your anxiety decided for you. “Where are they?”

“Indiana,” he answered gruffly. He turned and sat against the far wall, bringing his knees up to rest his arms on.

“Who is in your family?”

“My parents, and a little sister.”

“Do you get to see them often?”

“No. Work keeps me here.”

“Can’t you pay for them to visit you? You have enough money?”

“Why are you asking personal questions?”

“Distracting myself.”

He eyed you for a moment. “Where’s _your_ family?”

“I’m an only child. My parents are from upstate but moved to Florida when I started university. I haven’t really spoken to them in a while.”

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “They didn’t want me to move to Brooklyn.”

Bucky stared at you as if that wasn’t explanation enough.

“They thought I was throwing my life away, so we just kind of drifted apart,” you continued softly. “Well, mostly my mother. I could have been a big shot in a small pond, she said, instead of a nobody in Brooklyn. Dad followed her lead, like he always does.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “You aren’t a nobody.”

You kept your gaze averted, not bothering to respond.

“Y/N, look at me.”

When you didn’t, you heard a rustling sound and suddenly Bucky was sitting on the floor of the elevator right beside you. His hand reached for your chin and turned your face so your eyes would meet his.

“ _You aren’t a nobody_ ,” he repeated, his eyes intense.

“So what if I was?” you whispered. “Who cares? I still live in Brooklyn. It’s all I want.”

“Is it?” Bucky’s eyes searched yours. “Is that all?”

There was something in his eyes this time, something you hadn’t seen before. Words unsaid were shining there. “No,” you relented, your voice so quiet even you barely heard it.

“Tell me what you want,” he pleaded. His thumb caressed the skin along your jaw gently, sending chills down your spine.

Your gaze flickered down to his pink mouth, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips unconsciously. The air was so thick with need you could hardly breathe. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your skin. If you just moved forward a few inches, everything would be laid out in the open.

“Bucky, I-“

That’s all you could get out before the lights suddenly came back on and the elevator whirred to life.

Whatever reverie you’d been in was quickly ruined, and the two of you separated as if nothing had happened. He cleared his throat and you straightened your clothes as you both stood up and waited for the doors to open. Bucky grabbed the Chinese food bag and stared at the number above the doors as it flashed to show the second floor.

When the doors opened, Bucky turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you replied quietly. “Thanks for dinner.”

With a stiff nod, he stepped off the elevator, and you pushed the button for the fourth floor.

The last thing you saw before the doors shut was him burying his face in his hands.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mention of sexytimes - nothing major.

Friday night’s events plagued you all weekend. You’d tossed and turned, unable to get any real rest. You just kept picturing Bucky, with his head in his hands, looking so defeated.

Monday wasn’t much better. You’d heard rumors that he’d called off sick for the first time in years.

_Bucky Barnes? Sick? He’s probably playing hooky with some hot broad._

_Did you hear about Mr. Barnes? They said he hasn’t had a sick day in three years. He must be really bad off if he’s missing work for it._

_I heard that Barnes found out he’s got a fatal illness. So young, too. What a shame._

You rolled your eyes as you hurried down the hallway, past all the gossips and their crazy rumors. There was only one place you wanted to be right now, and it wasn’t your office.

“Good morning, Ms. Hill,” you said calmly, your hands clasped together in front of you. “I was wondering if Mr. Stark had a moment to speak with me?”

Maria eyed his calendar. “It says here your meeting with Mr. Banner and Mr. Stark isn’t for another two days?”

“That’s work-related,” you confirmed. “What I really need is a moment of his _personal_ time.”

She raised an eyebrow at you. “What makes you think Tony Stark has time for that?”

“Well, I-” You were cut off when the man himself peered around his door, glaring at his assistant.

“Maria, where’s my bagel? I’m so hungry I could keel over and die at any moment, and whose fault would it be, Maria? Your fault.”

She stood up. “Toasted, sir?”

“Yes, toasted, what am I? Some kind of cave man?” Tony opened the door wider and strode out, eyeing you carefully. “Y/N, what are you doing here? Our meeting isn’t for another-”

“Two days, yes sir, I am aware,” you said quickly, not wanting to blow this chance. “I need a moment of your time for something that’s _kind of_ work-related, kind of not.”

“Well,” he began, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “As long as it’s entertaining, I have a little time before the bagel-forgeter comes back. Come on in.”

“Thank you so much!” You stepped in behind him, shutting the doors before taking a seat in front of his desk.

He sat back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “How can I help you today?”

“What _really_ made you hire me?” you asked, your fingers gripping the armrests of your chair tightly. You needed to hear it from him, and you _needed_ it to be the truth.

Tony sat up then, and leaned on his forearms, expression serious. “Barnes told you, I take it?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “He asked me not to, figures he couldn’t even follow his own rules.”

“Why did you hire me, sir? I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Bucky pulled me out of some pretty bad financial trouble a few years back. He’s been working like a crazy person ever since to make sure I stay out of trouble. I owed him several big favors, and he cashed in on this tiny favor, which benefited me anyways.” Tony shrugged. “That’s all.”

“What did he say when he asked you to hire me?”

“Oh, I get it,” he nodded, a smirk appearing. “You want to know if he did it because he felt bad, right? He told me about the cab thing, and the other shit he’s pulled on you. Can’t say I blame you for being pissed off.” He leaned even further toward you, his voice dropping in volume. “Between you and me, there’s something he wasn’t telling me.”

“Oh?” Your eyes were wide, and you were stuck on Tony’s every word. “What do you think it was?”

He leaned back then with a wink. “If you’re here asking, Y/N, then you already know, don’t you?”

You sat back and took a deep breath, looking out the windows to your left.

“You do, don’t you? Cause frankly I have _no clue_. I was just trying to sound wise.”

“Thank you for your time, sir,” you said quietly, moving to stand up.

“Y/N, wait.”

You stopped and looked up at him again in question. It was obvious he’d been struggling with telling you anything. He must have a solid trust with Bucky if he was side-stepping this much.

“So, _if_ I tell you, don’t say anything to him, okay? Be cool.”

“I promise.”

“He slid your folder across my desk and told me that if I let you get away, I’d be as stupid as he was.”

Just as you were about to reply, Maria opened the door, holding up the toasted bagel.

“Maria, you are an angel. That’ll be all, Y/N.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, nodding your head and walking out of his office.

It was time to take some of your own paid time off and pay someone a visit.

But first, you needed some supplies.

* * *

You balanced soup, bread, and orange juice in your arms precariously as you watched the elevator number flash for the second floor. The doors opened and you marched to Bucky’s apartment, shifting just enough to knock three times without dropping anything.

There didn’t seem to be any noise inside. _Maybe he really isn’t home,_ you thought miserably.

The door opened then, and an exhausted-looking Bucky stood in front of you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” He rubbed his eye sleepily.

“Shouldn’t _you_ be at work?” you echoed, pushing your way past him and marching to his kitchen to deposit the food you’d brought him.

“Sure, come on in,” he said sarcastically, shutting the door behind you. “What is all that?”

“This is soup, bread, and orange juice, courtesy of the cafe down the street. I heard everything ranging from you had a cold to you were dying of cancer today, so I wasn’t sure what would work. If you don’t want it, toss it out.”

Bucky moved to stand in front of you. “I’m not sick. I just…had a rough time trying to sleep last night.”

You didn’t say a word, taking everything out of the bags to set out on the counter. You were about to open the soup container when his hand reached out and covered yours, holding it still.

“Stop,” he said softly. “I don’t want soup right now. Thank you, though, for thinking of me.”

Your eyes slid to his, but you didn’t move your hand, and neither did he. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Ah…that did it. 

You frowned as he pulled away from you, both of his hands pushing his hair back from his face.

“Another question and answer session?” Bucky gave you a look. “I’m too tired today, Y/N. Maybe some other day. I think you should just go.”

You gripped the counter, trying to keep your cool and failing. “You know what, Bucky? You aren’t the only one losing sleep here,” you snapped. White hot anger started coursing through your body, as if your blood was molten lava and you were a volcano about to blow.

Bucky must have seen it, too, because he took a cautious step back. “Why are you freaking out on me again? I just asked to be left alone.”

“Say I leave you alone,” you gritted out, stepping forward slowly. Each step you took made him take one step backwards. “Then what? Somehow you end up saving me and then avoiding me, saving me and avoiding me. It’s a habit with you, Bucky, a pattern. It’s making me _insane_!”

“I’ll stop,” he promised, swallowing hard, his eyes starting to look a little nervous. “I’ll leave you alone, I swear.”

Your hands went to your hips indignantly. “You are the single most _infuriating_ man I’ve _ever_ met!” 

That set him off. You saw his eyes darken and he stood a little taller. “You aren’t so easy to handle yourself, _princess_ ,” he spat, pointing a finger at you. 

He stalked forward again, backing you up until your backside hit the counter, and placed an arm on either side of you.

A little squeak of surprise left you when you realized you were trapped. _Geez, now you’ve done it_ , you thought to yourself, panicking a little. You hadn’t seen him this crazed before.

“ _You_ ,” he breathed out, his voice a little raspy. “You have done _nothing_ but infuriate me since the moment I first saw you through that stupid broken window of yours.”

“What are you talking about?” you scoffed, trying to seem unaffected.

“You were laughing and smiling, and I could hear it all the way over here.”

“So now a woman can’t laugh in her own apartment?” you asked sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes were stormy again. You could practically see the anger swirling around in shades of grey and blue, scrutinizing you and sending shivers down your spine. “I wanted to know who was making you laugh that hard.”

You blinked in surprise. “It was probably just-”

“I _wanted_ ,” he continued, “to know why you were over there, instead of in here, where I could hear your laugh up close. It sounded like music. Why do you think I did so many stupid things, like trip you?” He shook his head in frustration. “Nothing I ever did was enough to make you laugh for me.”

“Bucky, I-”

He leaned closer, cutting you off again. “The next time I saw you in the window, you looked forlorn.” His breath tickled your ear gently. “You were staring off at the sky, and I wanted to know what made you that _sad_. I wanted to know if it was a person who did that to you, because I wanted to find them and make them regret it.”

You shivered again as his lips brushed your earlobe, far too stunned by now for a witty rejoinder. The heat from his body was becoming too much.

Bucky pulled back then, and when your eyes locked onto his, you could see his pupils were blown wide again. If you took a step forward, you’d swear you could drown in their stormy seas.

“You asked me last Friday night why I got you the job and the apartment. You want to know the truth?”

“Yes,” you pleaded, eyes searching his. “I _have_ to know.”

He gave you a small smile, then reached up to brush his fingers against your cheekbone. “It just wouldn’t be Brooklyn without you.”

Time seemed to stop for a moment, and all you could hear was your own heartbeat thumping in your chest as you stared at each other.

Bucky moved to pull away then, as if he took your silence as rejection. You reached for him, pulling him flush against you.

Your heart was racing. He looked at you with the same expression he’d had at the restaurant when he questioned your intentions. “This isn’t me paying you back,” you told him firmly. “This is me taking what I want for once in my fucking life.”

It all happened so quickly that you weren’t sure who moved first.

Suddenly he was kissing you like you were water and he hadn’t had a drop to drink in years. His hands were on your face, then tangled in your hair, sliding down to your arms, and finally grasping your hips as he held you tight.

It still wasn’t close enough for you. You grabbed his shoulders and he took the hint, lifting you up to sit on the counter.

Your legs parted to let him move closer, and he did, deepening his kisses and leaving you nearly breathless. Soft moans and panting were all you could hear as you wrapped your legs around him, your ankles interlocking to hold him in place.

“Bucky,” you groaned, lifting your hips and making him grunt against your lips.  

He pulled back reluctantly and rested his forehead on yours. His short breaths fanned over your lips. “You have to be sure,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t – I don’t want to if you-“

“I want you. I’ve known for a while now, Bucky. I- I’ve been stupid, we both have. You’re always on my mind.” You reached up and cupped his cheek gently, leaning your head back to meet his eyes. “I think…I think I love you.”

The grin that lit up his flushed face was bright enough to light the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center and then some. “Yeah?”

You smiled back at him. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he sighed out. “Because I think I love you, too.”

“Glad that’s settled.” You gave a firm nod, still smiling.

“There’s still some loose ends to tie up in this agreement,” Bucky added, his blue eyes now much brighter.

You squealed as he lifted you from the counter and carried you across the room, the soup long forgotten.

“I demand to know where you’re taking me,” you shrieked as he placed hot open-mouthed kisses along your neck, bumping into things occasionally until he reached his destination.

“I was planning on taking you here,” he said, as he dropped you on his bed and kicked the door closed behind him. He knelt on the mattress with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Then maybe I’ll take you on the couch, and then the counter, because that seemed like it could be fun.”

You let out peals of laughter and squeezed your eyes shut as he crawled up the bed and hovered over you, tickling your sides as he went.

When he finally stopped, you opened your eyes.

Bucky was staring down at you with pure awe on his face.  

“What?” you whispered, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Your laugh. I was right. It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

You raised an eyebrow in challenge. “How do you know that, when you don’t know what other sounds I can make?”

He grinned. “Good point. Better find out.” His lips attacked your neck again.

Needless to say, he had lots of new sounds to add to his list of favorites that night.

* * *

Wanda and Natasha were staring at you.

“What?” you asked, frowning at them.

“So, it’s finally over? You called a truce with Bucky?” Natasha asked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” you confirmed, taking a sip of your rum and coke.

You and Bucky had decided to tell everyone that you were officially together now that you’d had a couple weeks to yourselves. Everyone was supposed to meet here at Sam’s bar tonight, but Bucky had texted to say he’d be a few minutes late. 

“And there were no terms to it? He’s just going to leave you alone?” Wanda made a face at you. “It sounds too easy.”

“Oh, no,” you said with a chuckle. “Not that kind of truce. And he definitely won’t be leaving me alone.”

The three of you looked up as the bar door opened and Bucky came strolling in, with T’Challa and Ritu behind him. He grinned at you, and you gave him a bright smile in return, before looking back to your friends.

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and kissed your temple gently. “Hey guys,” he said with a grin. “How are ya?”

“Wait, wait, _wait a minute_ ,” Wanda practically shrieked. “I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Think again,” T’Challa called out from behind Bucky, rolling his eyes.

“We’re pretty sick of them as a couple already,” Ritu chimed in. “I’ve been trying to plan my wedding, and all Bucky, _the best man_ , can talk about is Y/N.”

You looked up at Bucky. “Is that right? You told them already?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t think of a better topic.” He leaned over and kissed you like you hadn’t just seen each other this morning.

“Gross!” Natasha cried out, covering her face. She peeked through her fingers. “I liked it better when you guys hated each other!”

“Not me,” Sam interjected from behind the counter. He refilled your drink and you gave him a grateful smile. “If they’d gone one more week like they were, we might have had another war on our hands.”

“Don’t worry, he still infuriates me,” you reassured everyone, giving Bucky a peck on the cheek.

“And she still makes me insane,” Bucky added in return. “But, you know, in a good way now.” His hand started sliding down to your backside, until you gave him a warning look.

“Truce, remember?” you scolded.

Bucky lifted his hands up. “Truce.”

“So wait, then truce means…” Wanda began, trying to puzzle it out.

“We had to lay off from having so much sex,” Bucky supplied gleefully. “It was interfering with work and sleep, and being out in public.”

“So we called a truce,” you added, smirking. “This one seems to be working so far. Better than our previous attempts at keeping the peace.”

“Sam, keep the drinks coming,” Bucky joked with a wink. “We’ll see if I can wear her down.”

“Have you ever seen these two so damn _happy_?” Natasha whispered to Wanda.

“Never,” Wanda replied, cringing as Bucky leaned over and planted another kiss on your lips.

“TRUCE!” 

You relented, sticking your tongue out at your friends as you pulled away from him.

“This is _far_ from over.” Bucky gestured between the two of you, his eyes glinting with laughter. He reached for your hand and laced your fingers together.

“Finally, something we both agree on,” you replied, smiling brightly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are made for each other.

“Do you always cry at weddings, Doll?” Bucky whispered in your ear.

“Shut up,” you mumbled back. “Don’t ruin the moment.” You rested your chin on his shoulder, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze while he led you in a slow dance around the makeshift dance floor.

The two of you were at the reception for Ritu and T’Challa that was being held in a large private room of their favorite restaurant where they’d had their first date.

Ritu and T’s wedding had been absolutely beautiful, and it had made you a little emotional. _Big deal._ Naturally, with his position at the front of the room as Best Man, Bucky had witnessed your blubbering with a hint of concern on his face.

“I was just curious,” he protested softly. “I need to know what I’ve gotten myself into here.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder and glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Well, Wanda’s engaged, right? And Steve’s thinking about asking Sharon. We may have more weddings to go to, and I wanted to be prepared.” He had a little glint in his eye while he was saying this to you, so you knew he was trying to get a rise out of you tonight.

You looked away, pretending to be bored. “Maybe I’ll find a different date.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “Not gonna happen.”

You stayed silent, biting back a grin as the arm he had around your waist tightened possessively.

“Besides,” he continued, “this is just like hearing you laugh for the first time, or seeing you sad for the first time.”

“How do you figure?” Your eyes flickered back to his in question.

Bucky’s mouth quirked up a little. “I want to be the one making you have happy tears.”

_Dammit_.

Your eyes almost immediately welled up again. “You’re so stupid, why did you have to go and say that?” you sputtered.

“What?” He looked alarmed. “I was trying to be romantic!”

“You just wanted me to cry again, dammit!” You let out a tearful chuckle and swiped at your eyes a bit. “If I look like the joker with my makeup running all over my face, I’m not going to be happy.”

“You look beautiful, as usual,” he replied, leaning closer to you, his breath warm against your lips. “And I got what I wanted, didn’t I? Happy tears.”

Your gaze dropped to his lips. “Mmmhmmm. Too bad that’s all you’re getting tonight.”

“Yeah, right.” He closed the distance between you with a soft kiss.

The slow song ended and Bucky took your hand, leading you back to your table. His seat was at the head table next to T’Challa, but he flopped down beside you for a moment anyways.

“So, cab girl, are you having a nice time?” The look Bucky was giving you made your knees weak, so you were glad to be sitting.

“I am, though I’m surprised you let me in the cab with you earlier. I was half expecting you to get in and have the cab drive away without me just for fun.”  You raised an eyebrow at him. “I think you’ve gotten a bit better about that sort of thing, though.”

“Maybe a little,” he agreed with a chuckle. “I think we both have, actually.”

“Yeah, though sometimes I still have them write _Borky_ on your coffee cup.”

“You know, to this day, I cannot stand the sight or smell of Chicken Marsala.”

You let out a big laugh, but stopped as soon as you looked up at Bucky again. His expression was so serious. “What?”

“Move in with me,” he breathed out, his blue-grey eyes wide.

“W-what?” Had you heard him correctly?

“Move in with me,” he repeated. “The lease you took over is almost up. Mine’s only got a couple more months to it. We can find a new place together if you don’t like the apartment I have now.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any doubts he might have. You saw only a sincere and hopeful look. “Are you sure? I already see you all the time as it is, between our apartments and work. I need you to be sure.”

Apparently it was his turn to get emotional. “Absolutely,” he said hoarsely. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” You gave him a small smile, and he smiled back at you. “But I’m paying half the rent.”

“Actually, I was thinking we might want to just buy a place. Rent is crazy expensive.”

“Stop making me cry,” you pleaded with another laugh.

Bucky’s smile widened. “What do you say we break our truce in the coat room?”

Your eyes darted to the corner of the restaurant. The coat room door was slightly ajar, but the light was off. You looked back at Bucky, who was grinning wickedly at you. He held his hands up in question.

You gave him a grin of your own. “We were never really good at truces, anyways.”


End file.
